


Loving For the Love-Impaired

by MissMysty



Category: Junjou Romantica
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 34,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23219641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMysty/pseuds/MissMysty
Summary: At twenty-eight, Hiroki considers himself jaded and doesn't care about finding love.  Then along comes Kusama Nowaki, kindergarten teacher and part-time florist.  But even with persistence, Hiroki won't give up that easily.  Right?
Relationships: Kamijou Hiroki/Kusama Nowaki
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	1. Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic I wrote and finished way back in 2011. I figured I'd move it over here from its original home on fanfiction.net. No editing has been done to the original story.

There were two things that were on Kamijou Hiroki's mind on the first day of classes at M University. The first was wondering why he always got stuck with the students who had no appreciation for literature, and the second one was Usami Akihiko's car lurking outside the university. The man himself, in his tall, three-piece-suited glory, was just leaning casually against the sleek, red sports car, his arms folded. When Hiroki got out of his class and glanced out, Akihiko had been smoking a cigarette. Someone had approached him and told him not to smoke on school grounds, however, and he had actually complied.

As Hiroki narrowed his eyes and went about arranging his paperwork, he couldn't help but notice that Akihiko was in a surprisingly good mood. Hiroki himself was a brooder, as had been pointed out to him by family, friends, and even his senior professor, Miyagi (multiple times, and with suggestions that he needed to get laid), but Akihiko was a different kind. They'd been friends since they were kids, and Hiroki could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen a genuine smile on the man's face.

Well, Hiroki thought with a snort as he glanced over at the doorway when Miyagi came ambling in, that wasn't entirely true. Every time Hiroki saw Akihiko with Takahiro, he was smiling like he was the happiest man in the world. That had been back in college, though, during their undergraduate career. Hiroki had spent increasingly less time with Akihiko since then, and when they did meet up, it was mostly Akihiko smoking out on his spacious balcony while Hiroki sat on one of the couches in his living room, reading through a manuscript.

Akihiko himself probably wouldn't say so, but Hiroki had felt a strain on their relationship since their last undergraduate year. It wasn't because they hadn't spent time with each other even though they hardly got the chance to. Hiroki had been working on his thesis and entry into graduate school, and Akihiko had been writing and preparing to enter law school. The thing that Hiroki couldn't forget about every time he saw Akihiko's face was that one afternoon when he'd tried to make his feelings known, and had left with nothing but regret.

"Kamijou-sensei!" And there was Miyagi, his voice a singsong lilt as he leaned over from his chair and tried to put his arms around Hiroki's shoulders. Hiroki leaned away and Miyagi actually fell to the ground, yelping in pain as the corner of a book stuck him in the stomach. Their office floor was practically tiled in books, individual ones tossed there when one of them was in frantic research mode or stacked in piles according to a system that both understood but neither could explain if asked. He wiggled around until he was laying on the floor on his back, a paper stuck to his chest that he ignored. "You're so mean!"

"And as I told you last semester, you're one inappropriate touch away from sexual harassment charges, Professor," Hiroki said, narrowing his eyes behind his glasses. He noticed that the paper stuck to Miyagi's chest was his, and he leaned down and picked it up. "I honestly don't understand how you're so highly ranked in the department when you can't even work without me holding your hand."

"Aw, you'd hold my hand?" Miyagi asked, a grin on his face as he watched Hiroki snap his briefcase shut. "Maybe you aren't as mean as I originally thought." He held out an arm as if he expected Hiroki to take it, and then frowned when he was ignored. "Hi-ro-kiiiii."

"I'm going home. Goodbye, Professor." Hiroki purposefully walked around Miyagi's sprawled-out body even though it involved knocking into one of the stacks of books and sending it crashing to the ground. The last thing he heard before he closed the office door was Miyagi screaming in terror as he was, Hiroki supposed as he pulled his beanie over his eyes, buried in an avalanche of books.

Hiroki walked through the halls of M University, muttering to himself about incompetent superiors and ignoring the terrified looks from students who were in his classes, and even a few who weren't. Miyagi had gotten a lot more clingy towards him since his divorce with his wife had been finalized, although to Hiroki's relief, the older man actually spent more time at home. The previous semester he'd practically lived in their office even before the word divorce came up, chain smoking and sleeping on their raggedy old couch when he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore.

Hiroki himself couldn't say he knew what it was like. He'd had an unrequited love for Akihiko almost since they met when they were ten, and despite the failed attempt at courting him six years previously, those feelings still came up every now and then, twisting his stomach and making traitorous tears prick at his eyes before he could wipe them away. But Akihiko loved Takahiro, who in turn was straight as a board and just as oblivious as one. It was like the relationship chart for a shojo manga, or in this case a BL one: Hiroki loved Akihiko, Akihiko loved Takahiro, Takahiro was oblivious to it all, and Akihiko was too concerned with being a good enough friend to stay close to him to even look twice at Hiroki when he'd see them together and suddenly have very itchy eyes.

However, if anyone asked Hiroki if he read the kind of manga that he was comparing his pathetic excuse for a love life to, he'd scoff and say he'd never read the crap. He'd also claim that he was twenty-eight-years-old and therefore too old to be concerned about asinine love triangles, but that didn't stop Miyagi, among others, commenting that perhaps he needed eye drops whenever he started rubbing at his eyes.

As Hiroki took off his glasses and went through the front doors of the building, he realized with a start that Akihiko was still there. Hiroki just stood there, staring, barely noticing the student that had his head ducked as he tried to make it through the door and past Kamijou the Devil with all his limbs intact until the guy stopped at Akihiko's car, his head still ducked. When Hiroki actually paid attention to his surroundings, he realized that there were quite a few students lurking the grounds, staring at Akihiko and his fancy car and the boy that apparently knew him well enough to be quite vocally pissed-off that he was there in the first place.

Akihiko, for his part, just smiled widely and took the boy's attacks like they were nothing. Then he indicated the car, and as Hiroki got closer, he heard the boy say, "I told you I can get home myself!"

"Akihiko!" Hiroki yelled, and the boy, previously ready for battle, tensed his shoulders and shrunk down as much as possible. Akihiko didn't look the least bit fazed. "Stop hanging around. You look suspicious enough on your own."

"I was just here to pick up Misaki," Akihiko said, raising his arm with a flourish as he indicated the poor boy who looked like he'd rather sink down into the cobblestone path than continue this particular conversation. "I'm guessing he's one of your students."

"Probably." Hiroki's classes were all big lectures, so he hadn't exactly had the time to memorize all the delinquents' faces yet. He didn't remember this one. "And why exactly are you picking up one of my students?"

Akihiko suddenly turned and realized that, with him distracted, Misaki had slipped away and disappeared down the street. He'd probably get him back for that later. "Ah, Misaki is Takahiro's younger brother."

"So you're doing Takahiro another favor." Hiroki had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. He'd learned long ago that anything but blind praise towards Takahiro often got a very negative reaction from Akihiko.

Akihiko ducked his head, and despite that he'd been told not to smoke, he reached into the pocket of his coat and produced a cigarette. He didn't light-up, though, just moved it through his fingers. "Takahiro moved away recently, due to a job transfer. Misaki was already accepted here at M, however, so I agreed to take him in."

"Takahiro's gone."

"And married." There was a bitter smile on Akihiko's face at that. Suddenly he looked up, though, and Hiroki's eyes caught Misaki standing there across the street, looking ashamed. He crossed and muttered to Usagi that he forgot the pass code for the building and so wouldn't be able to get in. The smile became genuine, and as Hiroki turned to leave, he caught out of the corner of his eye Akihiko leaning down and kissing Misaki after opening the passenger-side door for him. Misaki looked flustered, his cheeks turning red, but he still got in the car with nothing more than a, "Stupid rabbit!" and perhaps a sideways glance at Hiroki, probably wondering how Akihiko knew him.

Hiroki tried to keep his mind blank as he walked along. Normally he'd take the subway home, but there was a flower shop between his apartment and the university, and he wanted to go in there. He was by no means a flower person, but his mother had called him earlier that day to not-so-subtly remind him that it was her birthday. There would be one of the typical high-society parties to celebrate it, but Hiroki had given up dealing with those sorts of things a long time ago. He knew if he didn't do something, though, that he'd never hear the end of it. He'd recently moved, but it only took his mother one call to Akihiko to get his new address.

When Hiroki finally got to the store, he vaguely noted that one of the employees was outside, watering some sidewalk displays. He was tall, taller than Hiroki was necessarily comfortable with, but he had a gentle look in his eyes as he went about his work. Hiroki averted his eyes and went in, only to notice there was no one there.

"Ah, I'm very sorry," came a voice, and Hiroki turned to see the tall employee coming back in. He put the watering can aside and bowed. "I'm the only one here right now. How can I help you?"

Hiroki noted the name Kusama from the man's nametag, but didn't necessarily feel like he needed to be on a name basis with this man he'd probably never see again. "Yeah, I was hoping to get some sunflowers. A dozen, I guess."

"Of course." The man had a gentle smile as he led Hiroki over to the sunflowers. "For someone special?"

"My mother's birthday," Hiroki muttered as he ran a hand over one of the flowers. They were vibrant and healthy-looking, and it kind of pissed him off. "You guys deliver, right?"

"Yes but… since it's your mother's birthday, wouldn't it make her happy to see you?" Kusama asked. He had gathered up a dozen out of the buckets and was bringing them over to a work table to he could prepare them.

"I don't think it would make a difference to her." He had his arms folded and he was staring off to the side mostly so he could avoid looking at the worker, who kept sending warm smiles his way like they were the best of friends. The man handed him a sheet to fill out for the delivery, and he did so as the flowers were cut and wrapped.

With his business done and money handed over, Hiroki turned to leave. He had already seen what the flowers looked like, and he didn't know much about flowers, so his opinion on the bouquet probably wouldn't make any difference. Besides, he had mild social anxiety when it came to strangers, and he just wanted to get home so that uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach would go away. The worker was humming to himself as he finished, and he said something like, "I won't be able to deliver these until my boss gets back," but Hiroki wasn't paying enough attention. He did, however, pay attention when the man said, "See you later, Kamijou-san."

Hiroki had opened the shop's door enough to ring the bell over it, and when Kusama said that, he stopped, turned, and stared at him. The fact that he had chosen, "see you later," instead of "goodbye" bothered him, but instead of commenting, he just shook his head and went on his way.


	2. Secret Admirer

A few days later found Hiroki being faced with an unfamiliar man outside his office who was holding a bouquet of sunflowers. The man claimed that he didn't know who they were from because there was no card and another worker had taken the order. It pissed Hiroki off to no end, but he didn't even think about denying them. So he went back into his office with them, scowling when Akihiko, who was waiting for Misaki to be done with classes, looked on in amusement.

"It seems as if you have a secret admirer, Hiroki," he said, tapping out his cigarette so he could stop sticking his arm out the window. He went over to where Hiroki had unceremoniously dumped the bouquet on his desk. "I must say, I don't think I've seen any of the men you've dated send you flowers before."

"I haven't gone out with a man in a while, so I have no idea where these things came from," Hiroki said, narrowing his eyes at the flowers. The truth was, he hadn't had a real boyfriend in years, and his increasing irritation and discomfort with strangers left him seeking out one-night stands a lot less since his college days. Akihiko didn't know that, though. "I should just throw them away."

"What a waste." Akihiko picked up the bouquet and examined it. Then his eyes drifted to the window again, and spotting something, he said, "I'll take them, then."

"The great lord Usami can't even buy his own flowers?" Hiroki snatched the flowers from his friend. "Just go get that boytoy of yours so I don't have to worry about you burning down my office." Akihiko just shrugged good-naturedly and complied, which served to piss Hiroki off more. The door to his office was left hanging open in Akihiko's wake, so Hiroki stomped over and closed it. He ignored the frightening looks from passing students, but he couldn't ignore Miyagi yelping in pain when the door was slammed on his hand.

Hiroki frowned. Miyagi had said he was going home. Hiroki had been hoping he'd have the office to himself so he could avoid going home until rush hour on the subway was over. As soon as he saw Miyagi notice the flowers, though, he started packing up.

"Aw, Kamijou-sensei, is some meanie trying to steal you from me?" Miyagi clutched his heart and feigned distress, earning a book thrown square in his face for his efforts. "Seriously, though, what woman was brave enough to send these to you?"

"None of your business. Goodnight, professor," Hiroki said through clenched teeth. He put his bag over one shoulder and took the flowers in his opposite hand, knowing full-well he'd get stares from basically every student he passed while leaving. He ceased caring when his cell phone went off and he realized it was his mother calling.

There was yelling in the background that didn't sound like his mother, and he cringed and held his phone away from his ear as he left the university building. He briefly noted Akihiko with Misaki over at that ludicrously shiny sports car, but he ignored them and kept down the sidewalk. Finally Hiroki's mother seemed to realize that she had called him, because she said, "Hiro-chan! You finally answered!"

Hiroki cringed. "Yes, Mother. I've been in classes all day."

"Well," his mother said with a huff. "You know how I feel about not answering messages in a timely manner. If you hadn't answered this time I was prepared to believe you really had dropped off the face of the earth."

"Goodbye, Mother." He ended the call and shut off his phone, but he couldn't help frowning. He had gone on a trip after finishing graduate school, just a few months' escape to America where he slept in shabby motels and hopped around towns based on things he'd heard or read about concerning bookstores in them. By the time he was ready to go home, when he had to prepare to accept the assistant professorship at M University and be a grownup again, shipping his acquired collection back to Japan probably cost more than all the motel rooms he stayed in combined.

In that time, his mother had supposedly tried to call him over and over again, but his cell phone didn't get international coverage, and even if it did, he'd left it home. He'd called Akihiko once or twice from pay phones. He recalled doing it once somewhere in the desert, just finding a random pay phone by the side of the dusty highway after he got kicked off a bus for his temper. Akihiko had offered to wire money to him so he could afford a cab to go out that far, but Hiroki had refused. He spent the next few days hiding in shadows like some kind of sunburned vampire.

When Hiroki looked up, he realized that he had passed right by the station and decided it was more worth it to just walk. The flowers would probably get crushed with how crowded the subway would be at that time anyway, not that Hiroki necessarily cared. When he got close enough to recognize the flower shop he had bought his mother's bouquet from the other day, he realized that the deliveryman had its name on his shirt. One of the details he'd taken in trying to avoid looking at the flowers, he supposed.

Hiroki couldn't be sure if the man standing outside was the same man he'd seen the other day, but he was certainly tall enough. He wasn't dressed in the store's uniform, though, and even if he did have a nametag on, Hiroki didn't remember what that name was. He'd stored it about as long as ordering the flowers had taken and not given it a second thought afterwards.

"You got the flowers!"

Hiroki had been staring at his feet, but the man was clearly talking to him, so he settled his eyes at a point ahead of him and twitched as the man walked up. "So they did come from this shop."

"Yes." The man had a huge smile on his face. "I thought you'd like them."

Hiroki stopped cold at that, and with a speed known only to his students foolish enough to bring on the ire of the Demon Kamijou, he reared around and glared right at the man, who was smiling in a warm way like he wasn't aware he had the wrath of Hell right in front of him. Once Hiroki's words were returned to him, he managed to ask, "You sent them?"

The man suddenly looked up, his unfocused eyes looking interested, and Hiroki turned back around to see Akihiko had pulled up by the curb and was rolling down his window. Misaki was sitting there in the front seat, looking absolutely terrified at this scenario. Hiroki frowned, glancing between Akihiko and the man still standing there beside him on the sidewalk looking curious.

"I thought you said you haven't gone out with anyone in a while, Hiroki," Akihiko said with a lazy smile. Misaki was still cowering in the background, but at that he looked slightly conflicted at being presented with the information that his professor might be gay as well. "I have to say, he doesn't look like your usual type."

Hiroki had a face that could only be properly described by saying that if he was at a computer, he would've pounded his head repeatedly on the keyboard. As it was, he just squeezed the stems of the sunflowers in his hand, grit his teeth, and said, "This man works at the flower shop right here. I don't even know his name."

"Kusama Nowaki," the man said with a smile, bowing deeply. He clearly had a feeling that Hiroki wasn't going to put up with much more, though, and he said, "I was just going home, though. Have a good night, Hiro-san." He bowed once before he was off with nothing more than a vague wave behind him.

Akihiko had been lighting a cigarette as he waited for Hiroki to put his attention back on him, but at that, he choked in surprise and actually dropped it, the thing landing on the sidewalk unused. "Did he just call you Hiro?"

Misaki had scrambled into the backseat of Akihiko's car at that point, cowering behind the seats at Hiroki's angry aura. Not even Akihiko ever called him Hiro, with any kind of honorific. It was used by family only, usually with –chan affixed to it because while he was nowhere near the youngest in the family, he was, apparently, the "cutest." If his family was good for nothing else, they were good at finding ways to piss him off in new and interesting ways.

"I am not going into that," Hiroki muttered, turning down the street again. Akihiko put his foot on the gas again, though, and slowly inched along beside him. "Go home, Akihiko. I've put up with too much crap today for you to take a sudden interest in me."

"Who says it's sudden?" Akihiko asked, arching an eyebrow. "We're friends, Hiroki. At least let me bring you home."

"No." He didn't even affix a 'thank you' to the end of that. He knew that he would get the same reaction from Akihiko whether he was polite or not. "Besides, don't you have an editor's life to make more difficult?"

As if on cue, Akihiko's phone went off, and the man looked annoyed as he stared at it. He looked like he was seriously considering if he should answer it or not, and while he was distracted, Hiroki made a run for it. He didn't dare run all the way to his apartment, because he knew Akihiko was more than capable of catching-up with him if he wanted to, so he ended up ducking into a restaurant.

"Thank you very much!"

Hiroki's eyes went to the counter, where Kusama Nowaki was picking up a takeout bag and smiling warmly at the woman who handed it to him, much to her swooning delight. There was a hostess who was trying to tell Hiroki that he could pick any table he wanted, but he got a scowl on his face and ran for it again just as Nowaki turned and spotted him.

He was so concerned with escaping, in fact, that he didn't even pay attention to the fact that the pedestrian light was red. He ran out onto the crosswalk, and the only thing that alerted him to the car coming was the frantic beep of horn and screech as it tried to stop before it hit him. His eyes went wide, and just as he was ready to accept getting hit, he felt a hand on his elbow. He let go of the bouquet as he was pulled from the crosswalk just as the car stopped in it, leaving in its wake tire tracks and some very angry-looking drivers.

Hiroki noted that the bouquet of sunflowers had been crushed under the wheels of the car that had almost hit him. They were useless for their main purpose now which, Hiroki mused, was just looking pretty. Petals had broken off many of them and were scattering around in the wind. He was so caught-up in this visual that he only looked to his savior when he realized he was being pulled away from the scene. "K-Kusama…"

"Are you alright?" Nowaki asked, finally stopping when they were far enough down from the chaos. All Hiroki could do was nod numbly, and Nowaki added, "What were you thinking?"

This brought Hiroki's wits back to him, and his brow furrowed in anger. He ripped his elbow from Nowaki's grip and said, "What the hell do you know?"

Nowaki looked surprised at this outburst but not offended. He just stood there, watching as Hiroki stomped down the sidewalk. He was about to head on his own way, when he realized that Hiroki had turned back around and was stomping towards him again. He got a smile on his face, like he thought maybe Hiroki was going back to apologize or thank him, but instead, he was just muttering about how his apartment was in the opposite direction.

Some of the petals from Hiroki's mutilated bouquet had blown on the wind towards them at that point, and Nowaki absentmindedly picked one up and stared at it as Hiroki disappeared down the street.


	3. Persistence

Hiroki's students were afraid of him, and he liked it that way. At the end of the day, he received positive feedback on his classes and he kept his job, so he was obviously doing something right, even if that something right was instilling fear in the hearts of every freshman who passed through his Intro to Japanese Literature class. Akihiko clearly found it amusing, even though, after only a few days, Misaki was terrified to even be in the same time zone as him.

Of course, Akihiko's upscale apartment counted as the same time zone. Akihiko just stood out on the balcony chain smoking like he always did when Hiroki looked over one of his manuscripts at his place, and it took Misaki about five minutes of vacuuming to realize that his professor was there, engrossed in Akihiko's latest manuscript.

"P-professor Kamijou!" he squeaked, dropping the handle on the vacuum with a thump.

Hiroki graced him with the shortest of glances before going back to the manuscript, his glasses sliding down his nose but him not necessarily caring. "Relax, brat, I'm here for Akihiko. Or is there a reason you should feel nervous about me knowing where you live?"

Misaki hunched his shoulders before leaning down to pick up the vacuum so he could start his work again. "Um, no, I was just surprised to see you, is all. Um, are you friends with Usagi-san?"

"You could say that." Hiroki shifted his eyes to the sliding glass doors, beyond which Akihiko had finished a cigarette and now was just leaning against the railing, staring out at the cityscape and looking contemplative. It was only after this look that Hiroki realized Misaki had called Akihiko 'Usagi-san,' and his left eye twitched as he went back to the manuscript. Usagi was Takahiro's nickname for Akihiko, and one that Hiroki had always found annoyingly affectionate.

Hiroki was no longer in the classroom, however, and it was easy to see that Misaki just wanted to go back to his housework. Considering all the work he'd done to not be a big part of Akihiko's life (it hadn't really worked, of course, but he got an A for effort) Hiroki shouldn't have felt his heart clench when he realized this kid probably shared Akihiko's bed in more ways than one. Hiroki didn't even remember Misaki from the funeral for Takahiro's parents that he'd been obliged to attend as Akihiko's best friend and the only one who knew his patterns of hiding out in case he needed to be found under some obscure tree and dragged back into the service. He did remember some fuss about Takahiro deciding to not go ahead and attend M University come spring, but he hadn't thought much of it. To tell the truth, if his parents had suddenly and unexpectedly been ripped away from him, he wouldn't have felt much up to continuing his education either. Hiroki wasn't that heartless.

It seemed, however, that when Misaki saw how docile Hiroki's attitude towards him was, the fear was lifted from his shoulders if only a little. He kept the vacuum off, gulped, and said, "I'm only here with Usagi-san because my oniichan moved away and I still wanted to go to M."

"If you say so," Hiroki muttered.

"I do! There's nothing between us!"

Hiroki actually looked up at that, pushed his glasses back up into place, and gave Misaki a hard stare. "Takahashi, Akihiko and I have known each other since we were ten. I think I can tell when he's head-over-heels for some random brat. I certainly saw it enough with your brother." Misaki yelped in surprise and Hiroki just went back to reading. He didn't have time for this crap.

"It's not like I ask him to put me in those stupid BL novels!" Misaki said, his voice gaining an octave about every five words.

There was a long pause, and then, "What the hell are you talking about." His voice was flat and so it didn't even sound like a question, just Hiroki sounding disbelieving that he'd actually heard that. Before he could react further, though, or listen to Misaki's inevitable, rambling excuses, one of the doors to the balcony opened, and Akihiko ambled in. "Akihiko, are you writing those asinine smut novels about him now?" Hiroki nodded towards Misaki, who was hunched in on himself and pushing the vacuum away in what was clearly an effort to go hide.

Akihiko, however, was not deterred. "Ah, that one hasn't been published yet," he said thoughtfully. "I would've thought you'd be glad that I didn't make you read through it before I gave the final version to Aikawa."

Just thinking about the BL novels Akihiko wrote featuring an idealized relationship between idealized versions of himself and Takahashi Takahiro made Hiroki's stomach twist. Akihiko was just as dense as the former object of his affections, and so Hiroki found himself going over the BL novels as often as he did the "regular" ones.

Akihiko took Hiroki's silence as an end to that particular conversation, and so he snuck off and took a hold of Misaki, who had gotten about as far as the closet all the cleaning supplies were kept in on the first floor. Misaki screeched in protest and demanded that Akihiko let him go, and Hiroki found that he couldn't put up with it anymore. He'd only gotten through and marked-up about half of the manuscript, but he threw it down on the coffee table, called, "I'm leaving!" and quickly put his shoes on so he wouldn't have to put up with that anymore.

The path between Hiroki's apartment and the university included Akihiko's apartment and the flower shop. Unfortunately for Hiroki, in his haste to escape Akihiko's apartment, he'd gone towards the university instead of his apartment and stopped short just as he got to the flower shop, realizing his error. He grumbled and turned around, but not before finding himself taking a quick glance through the glass wall.

Kusama Nowaki was not there, and as Hiroki picked up the pace so he could catch a train home, he was annoyed at himself for feeling disappointed, if only for a split second.

xxx

It was hard to concentrate on the last few minutes of his class when he finally noticed that Miyagi was lurking out in the hall, glancing in through the window on the door and clearly wanting to talk to Hiroki. Finally, he got fed up and put his lecture notes down. "That's all for today, now get the hell out of here."

His students were hesitant at first. Hiroki never let his classes out early, and so it was understandable that they'd just sit there at first, trying to decide whether it was a trap or not. When they all saw him packing his own bags, though, they stood up and ran for it. They nearly trampled poor Miyagi, who was still lurking there outside the door.

"I can't say I've ever seen students quite that happy to leave a class before, Kamijou-sensei," Miyagi said with a grin as he stepped into the lecture hall. Hiroki gave him a glare that was clearly meant to convey 'what do you want,' so Miyagi continued with, "There's someone who's rather insistent about seeing you."

"If it's Akihiko tell him I'm going home," Hiroki mumbled. It was five in the evening and he'd rather spend the time he needed to grade papers hauled up in his apartment, where he could strip off his shoes and socks and put on something significantly less stiff than the dress pants and slacks he wore to work. This did not deter Miyagi, however, and Hiroki found himself being followed down the hall. Hiroki had planned to leave right after his last class, so he'd already taken what he needed from the office. "What? I don't need to go back there. If it's not Akihiko, it's probably one of my students. You can answer any of their questions just as well as I could."

"Well that's the thing, he's not one of your students," Miyagi said, sounding slightly baffled. Hiroki stopped and turned around, staring at him. Miyagi scratched his cheek, clearly confused, as he said, "He said he was 'looking for Hiro-san' and has a big bouquet of flowers. Of course he insisted Hiro-san was you but I… can't say I've ever heard you called that, Kamijou." Despite his confusion, there was a slight twinkle in his eye. "It's kind of a cute nickname, Hi-ro-saaaan."

This just put a scowl on Hiroki's face, but he kept walking. The particular lecture hall he'd be in didn't require him to pass by his office on the way to the building's front doors, so if Kusama Nowaki was waiting there, he wouldn't have to see him. He did, however, say, "Professor, if you continue to follow me I'll choke you with your own tie."

Miyagi yelped and complied, clearly convinced that Hiroki would actually do such a thing, given the chance. Just as Hiroki was turning a corner, however, he said, "That guy is waiting for you at the gate, by the way!" Hiroki turned in a split second and was back down the hall. There was a fire escape door he knew of that only set off an alarm if it was open for more than ten seconds, and that was enough time to escape. When he passed by Miyagi, however, the man took him by the shoulders and turned him back around. "Go see the nice man who has flowers for you, Kamijou-sensei," he said with a grin. "Although I have to say, I had no idea you swung that way."

Hiroki didn't deny Miyagi's observation about his sexuality. He did, however, look exceedingly like he wanted to bite the hands that were still on his shoulders, guiding him towards the front doors. The grounds weren't quite as busy as they were earlier in the day, and so it was easy to spot Kusama Nowaki there at the gate, a bouquet of sunflowers even larger than the first one he'd given Hiroki in his arms and a smile on his face. Hiroki's eyes went wide, but before he could fight it, Miyagi had pushed him out the door, and he yelped as he stumbled forward. This, apparently, caught Nowaki's attention.

"Good evening," he said with a smile after he'd approached. Once Hiroki had righted himself, Nowaki held out the bouquet. "I wanted to give these to you, since the first one was ruined the other day."

Hiroki just stood there, staring at the flowers. And then he said, "Why the hell would you think I wanted these?"

"Your mother talked about you a lot when I delivered that bouquet," Nowaki admitted with a sheepish smile. "She said you live alone. I thought they might brighten your day."

If it was up to Hiroki, he would probably lurk in his apartment all day, curtains drawn and nothing but a lamp for light like some kind of agoraphobic vampire. It wasn't up to him, though, and for all the books in his apartment, it was still rather empty.

"Oh and…" Nowaki was still holding the bouquet because Hiroki was debating whether to take it or not. "My boss at the shop said you stopped by the other day but I wasn't there. Sorry."

"…what," Hiroki said.

"That is, my main job is as a kindergarten teacher. The flower shop is only part time," Nowaki said with a smile, clearly missing Hiroki's disbelief or just choosing to ignore it. He held the flowers out again, and Hiroki took them numbly. "I was just going out to eat, actually. Would you like to come, Hiro-san?"

Hiroki usually found himself eating something that was either pre-prepared or could be nuked in the microwave, and so actual food was tempting. However, he looked down at his flowers, and he found himself saying, "Why the hell do you keep calling me that?" It wasn't the most important question on his mind, but it was all he could manage to ask.

Nowaki smiled. "Your mother kept calling you Hiro-chan, but I thought that was a little too… informal."

Hiroki nodded numbly. Students were starting to gather for evening classes, though, and ones that recognized Hiroki were giving him strange looks when they observed him just standing there at the entrance, a large bouquet of flowers in his arms and talking to a strange man. So he said, "Whatever, I'm hungry."


	4. Honesty

Hiroki was not happy with how dinner was going. They'd ended up at the restaurant Nowaki had been getting takeout from that day he saved Hiroki from being run over. It wasn't a bad place, he'd admit, but their waitress had been eying Hiroki's flowers since she took their orders. He ended up ordering a beer, figuring he deserved to get drunk since it was Friday night and he'd survived the first week of the new semester.

Nowaki, for his part, just smiled and answered the increasingly personal questions. Hiroki's inhibitions were easily washed away by alcohol, it seemed.

"Don't you have a girlfriend or something? You should've sent these things to her," Hiroki said, tossing a glare at the sunflowers lying on the table beside him.

Nowaki hadn't been partaking in alcoholic beverages, so he just smiled over his glass of iced tea. "I don't have anyone, Hiro-san."

"Geeze, if you can't get a woman…" He didn't finish that thought, instead gazing down at his empty plate. The waitress had brought him his third and fourth drinks since they'd both finished eating, but didn't seem to think it appropriate to take the dirty dishes away. They did, however, find it appropriate to giggle at the pair whenever Nowaki gave Hiroki that warm, friendly smile of his. "Not that I care. Never been interested in women, anyway."

"Your mother did say your first love is literature," Nowaki said.

Hiroki scoffed and picked up his beer glass, only to see that it was empty. He frowned and said, "My mother doesn't know I'm gay so of course she'd say that."

Nowaki blinked in surprise, at least until he noticed that their waitress had stopped cold as soon as Hiroki uttered the word 'gay.' When Nowaki saw her, though, she started towards them again and put the bill down on the table. "Have a good night, gentlemen."

"Thank you," Nowaki said with another one of those smiles. Hiroki scoffed when he saw it, before Nowaki got up, holding his wallet. "I'll be right back, Hiro-san."

"There's no way in hell I'm letting you pay for everything!" Hiroki said indignantly, quickly getting up from the table. His world started spinning, though, and he stumbled on his feet until Nowaki caught him. He blinked twice and, instead of bursting out in anger, he said, "You're really warm, you know that?"

"Ah, I do have a naturally high body temperature…" There was a long silence between the two, during which Nowaki simply held Hiroki in his arms and Hiroki tried to get his bearings again. Finally Nowaki said, "Are you okay, Hiro-san?"

Hiroki mumbled under his breath and pushed Nowaki away before stomping out to wait in the fresh air. Apparently he had given up his bid to pay for part of the check. Nowaki, for his part, just smiled and went to take care of it.

"It's stupid, anyway." Hiroki had started ranting as they walked. He didn't live that far away from the restaurant, and Nowaki had suggested that the night air might help clear his head. Not that Hiroki particularly wanted to get his head cleared, but he probably wouldn't have done that well on the subway. "I've had a crush on my best friend since we were ten and my mother hasn't even noticed. She even tries to set me up with girls."

"Your best friend?"

"Well not really a crush I guess. It passed that a long time ago." Hiroki scowled down at the sidewalk, but not able to watch where he was going proved to be a bad idea, and Nowaki had to pull him out of the way before he crashed into someone. "Would you not touch me?"

"I'm sorry, Hiro-san," Nowaki said amiably, removing his hand from Hiroki's elbow. "Is this friend that man I met the other day?"

"Akihiko, yeah." Hiroki averted his eyes again, but he was at least aware of people coming from the opposite direction. "But I never get a chance. Stupid Akihiko, always after one guy or another, not even looking at me." He flinched when he felt Nowaki's hand on his head, petting his hair in a way that reminded him too much of Akihiko. Except, he mused as he realized that they'd finally gotten to his apartment building, Nowaki's hand was warm where Akihiko's was always freezing.

"Do you need help up to your apartment, Hiro-san?" Nowaki asked, his hand still running through Hiroki's hair in a way that was much too affectionate for how little they knew each other.

Hiroki batted Nowaki's hand away, but instead of telling him to go home, he folded his arms and said, "Whatever."

He did need help up to his apartment, it turned out. When his confessional stage of drunkenness wore off, he tended to be left with nothing but an overwhelming feeling of tiredness, and he fell asleep in the elevator almost as soon as he hit the button for his floor. He was leaning against the wall of the car opposite Nowaki, having done it pointedly and in a way that made it obvious he didn't want to be touched anymore. Nowaki complied, at least until the elevator dinged for the floor beneath them and Nowaki realized he should probably wake Hiroki up.

"Hiro-san?" he asked just as the elevator reached their floor and got ready to open. Hiroki woke up fairly easily, but he spent most of the time until the doors opened looking confused as to where he was, why he was there, and who Nowaki was. "We're almost to your apartment."

"…oh," Hiroki said, finally seeming to realize what was going on. He pushed past Nowaki and left the elevator, then glanced back at him. "What, you're not coming?"

Nowaki quickly nodded and pushed open the doors when they started to close on him. Hiroki was grumbling the entire way down the hall to his apartment, but he didn't seem to have any qualms with Nowaki being in his apartment.

Nowaki, for his part, slipped off his shoes and looked around the apartment in wonder. It was bigger than his own by several times, and while it had a TV, it didn't seem that prominent compared to the bookshelves surrounding it. They were all full, and the books had started overflowing onto everything else. Some were open on the coffee table in between the two couches, with tons of loose papers surrounding them.

"You don't have to stay you know," Hiroki said, his voice having turned a little pouty. It seemed he changed his mind pretty easily while drunk as well. "I've been worse off than this and not killed myself." Nowaki didn't respond, and he huffed and said, "You want coffee or something?"

"No thank you," Nowaki replied. When Hiroki responded to that by just collapsing on the couch, he continued with, "Perhaps you should just go to bed, Hiro-san. You did fall asleep in the elevator, after all."

Hiroki eyed him and said, "I'm not going to bed as long as you're here."

"…I wouldn't take advantage of you like that," Nowaki said, his voice quiet and even. He walked over to Hiroki and leaned down, pushed a piece of his shaggy hair out of his eyes. He blinked in surprise when Hiroki leaned in and kissed him, a sloppy, desperate kind of kiss that he'd never experienced before. He pulled away when he felt Hiroki's tongue trying to push into his mouth.

"I'm nowhere near as noble as you, it seems." Hiroki's eyes carried a surprising lucidness in them after all the time he'd spent stumbling and ranting since dinner, and it caught Nowaki off-guard enough to be completely pushed over when Hiroki pushed him out of the way. "I'm going to bed."

Nowaki just nodded from his place on the floor, touching his lips and looking amazed.

xxx

Hiroki woke up the next morning sprawled out on his bed and wearing the dress shirt and slacks he'd worn to work Friday morning. He also had a pounding headache and a distinct lack of memory as to what happened the previous night much beyond when he and Nowaki finished their food. There were brief flashes here and there, nothing too bad but ones that led him to believe he might've told Nowaki a little more about himself than he was prepared to deal with.

Nowaki wasn't there in bed with him, though, and other than the horrible headache and a bit of stiffness, his body felt fine. He was more than prepared to believe that he hadn't done anything stupid that night. At least until he managed to stumble out of his room and saw Nowaki was still there, standing in his kitchen and cooking.

"…what the hell are you doing." Hiroki's voice was flat, and he said it in a quiet voice. Even loud sounds from himself were sure to make him feel even more like crap. He knew how these things went.

Nowaki turned, and he smiled when he saw Hiroki standing there. "I stayed to make sure you'd be okay, Hiro-san, and I guess I fell asleep. But, since I was here anyway, I thought you'd like some breakfast. Your mother says you don't eat as well as you should."

"What the hell does my mother know?" Hiroki asked, but never-the-less, he rubbed at a particularly throbbing place on his head and left Nowaki to it. But then he turned back from where he was about halfway to the couches and said, "I didn't do anything… weird… last night, did I?"

Nowaki turned away so Hiroki couldn't see the expression on his face and said, "No, Hiro-san. You pretty much went to bed as soon as we got here."

Hiroki had been prepared for Nowaki to tell him he'd at least attempted to give him a handjob or something, and he frowned at that. He supposed it was good for him, but he couldn't help but feel like he was missing something.

Before he could comment, though, the intercom sounded, and Hiroki froze.

"Hiroki? Are you home?"

Nowaki looked out curiously, probably not recognizing the voice. Hiroki did, though. Of course he did; he'd recognize Akihiko's voice anywhere. He scrambled to his feet and ran over to answer despite himself. He could never ignore Akihiko; that was, he supposed, why he had such a hard time letting go of his feelings after all those years. In contrast to how desperate he'd looked as he went, though, he answered with a gruff, "What do you want?"

"Ah, I was worried you'd gotten lost last night when I came over and you weren't home," Akihiko answered like he thought Hiroki had been dying in a ditch somewhere but couldn't say he actually cared. "You never finished looking over my latest manuscript." Not even a 'would you like to do it now?' because normally, Hiroki would've dropped whatever he was doing and done it. Because, in the end, he was under Akihiko's thumb, whether the guy was in unrequited love with Takahiro or screwing Takahiro's younger brother on what Hiroki was sure was a daily basis.

Hiroki glanced back at Nowaki, humming happily as he cooked eggs, and said, "I can't right now. I have someone over."

There was a long pause and then, "So? I'm sure they wouldn't mind."

"Well maybe I mind!" Hiroki yelled, startling Nowaki enough to look over and see what was going on. "Besides, I still have work to do. If you need to turn that thing in to your editor, just make the corrections I gave you and do so. You give that poor woman enough grief." He pressed a button to turn the intercom off and was about to go over to the kitchen. He couldn't help it, though; he went out to his small deck and looked down, since it faced the street. He was too many floors up to see the expression on Akihiko's face, but he could tell the man was continually pressing the button, confused as to why Hiroki wasn't still answering.

As he turned away before Akihiko could get the idea to look up and spot him, he couldn't help but feel like he'd be getting hell for all this later.


	5. Tempting

The next Thursday, Hiroki's students could tell he was tired, but no one dared to say anything. He yawned throughout the lecture and forgot his obsessive reminders about the essay due the coming Monday. He didn't even fling chalk at the texters like he always did.

At the end, as students were leaving, Hiroki looked up from his notes to see Misaki had approached the podium. He narrowed his eyes, took off his glasses and said, "What do you want, Takahashi?"

Misaki flinched at the harsh tone and hunched his shoulders when he realized other students were looking at him strangely.

"If it's about class-"

"Usagi-san wants to know if you're okay!" Misaki burst out, surprising Hiroki and even himself a little. He had lost a lot of his fight when he continued with, "He keeps moping around and says you've been avoiding him. I don't like when he mopes."

Hiroki rolled his eyes. He'd spent a good part of his life watching Akihiko be mopey, so he couldn't say it upset him as much as it did Misaki. Still, he said, "Takahashi, I haven't slept in two days. I have better things to do than babysit spoiled authors."

"Two days?" Misaki asked, his eyebrows going up in surprise.

"None of your business. Just go home." He waved Misaki off and started out so he could go to his office. He still had work to do that would be easier to accomplish there instead of at home, as much as he dreaded the thought. His classes for the day were over, though, and it was barely one-thirty. He didn't want to make a habit of being home early.

Hiroki had stayed up the past two nights, reading and taking notes on the differences between his copy of Akihiko's first novel in its original Japanese and the copy he'd obtained while in America. The translation, he was finding, had been faithful if incredibly awkward in places. He wasn't even halfway through, though, so he had more all-nighters and cups of coffee ahead of him. If he was lucky, he'd find his English copies of Akihiko's other novels and be able to compare the earlier translations to the later ones.

He realized he was being rather obsessive, but Hiroki couldn't say he was the kind of man to drop something once it caught his interest. Speaking of catching interest, though, Hiroki hadn't seen Kusama Nowaki since Saturday, when he'd finally been able to convince the man that he was fine and that he didn't need him to take care of him all day. He'd woken up with worse hangovers. In his harder times, such as when he ended up staying up all night working on his doctoral thesis, he couldn't even get out of bed sometimes. The day after he'd had sex with Akihiko, he drank for two days straight, but in his haze, he couldn't actually remember having a hangover. Maybe the sheer force of alcohol had cancelled it out.

Finally, Hiroki decided that he couldn't put up with the place anymore and that he just needed to go home. He wasn't necessarily going to sleep, but he'd do something in his apartment that involved most of the lights off and no human contact for several hours. Whether that meant more translation comparison or just sitting there rocking back-and-forth was yet to be determined.

When Hiroki made it to the gate, he decided that the way to make Nowaki stay out of his life was to just not think about him, because he just had to think about him and, lo and behold, there he was. He did consider himself lucky that Nowaki didn't have a gigantic bouquet with him that time, at least. The sunflowers Nowaki had given him Friday night were still there in his apartment, placed in a vase he didn't even remember owning and placed on top of the upright piano his mother had given him when she heard he was moving into a larger apartment but that he never used. He'd taken piano lessons along with everything else growing up, but he hadn't played anything more complicated than "Chopsticks" in a while.

"…how the hell did you know I'd be leaving? I didn't even decide to leave until about three minutes ago," Hiroki said, sounding unamused but not fighting the fact that Nowaki decided to follow him.

Nowaki smiled. "I didn't have to watch the children after school got out today, so I decided to come see you. If you hadn't shown up I would've gone in, since I know where your office is."

Hiroki would have to "thank" his mother for telling Nowaki that particular detail. Instead of mentioning this, though, he decided to say, "So you were at your usual job today?"

"Yes," Nowaki said with a smile, but he kept his eye on Hiroki as they walked like he could tell just by looking at him that something was wrong. "Since it's only been a couple of weeks, many of the children are still getting used to being away from their parents, so it can be hard to get them to participate in activities."

"…I'm not that great with kids so I can't say I sympathize with your situation," Hiroki muttered, using the hand he wasn't carrying his bag in to rub at his tired, somewhat bloodshot eyes. The sunlight wasn't doing much to keep him awake. In fact, the closer they got to the subway, the sleepier he got. By the time they had bought their tickets and sat down, Hiroki fell asleep on the bench.

xxx

When Hiroki woke up again, an admittedly small amount of time had passed. Since he lived fairly close to the university, the subway route wasn't that long. He expected what had woken him up to be the announcement for his stop, but instead, he opened his eyes and looked around to see he was in his apartment. He wasn't sure how he got there, but when he got his wits about him, there seemed to be two people in his apartment, which was at least one more person than he expected to be with him then.

"It just seems bizarre to see him as a person instead of… um, we students kind of have a nickname for him," the person who wasn't Nowaki said as he stood in the kitchen.

"And what would that be?"

"…Kamijou the Devil," the boy muttered. "He has a really bad temper, and he'll throw chalk and books at us."

"Hiro-san can't be that bad," Nowaki said.

Hiroki sat up, rubbing his neck. He'd been deposited on one of the couches instead of in his bed and he was just a little stiff. As he got his wits about him again, he realized that the other person in the apartment was Takahashi Misaki, better known to Hiroki as Akihiko's boytoy. What he was doing in Hiroki's apartment was beyond him, and when it came down to it, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Nowaki was at the stove making tea, but when he looked beyond Misaki and saw that Hiroki was awake, a grin broke out on his face and he turned the burner down. "Hiro-san!" Nowaki said as he approached him. Misaki ducked his head like he thought that would hide him, though it may also have been that Nowaki sat down beside Hiroki, checking the man's temperature and pushing his hair out of his eyes. They were intimate gestures that made Hiroki blush brightly and Misaki feel incredibly uncomfortable.

"I'm fine, just tired," Hiroki muttered, pushing Nowaki's hand away. Then he turned to Misaki. "What the hell are you doing here, anyway?"

"Misaki-kun was on the same train as us, and when I couldn't wake you up, he helped me get you back home," Nowaki said, that smile still on his face. "He said you told him earlier that you haven't slept in two days. You need to take better care of yourself, Hiro-san."

"What the hell do you know?" Hiroki said vehemently, pushing Nowaki away and standing up. "I'm going to take a shower so just… go home. Neither of you are obligated to deal with me."

Nowaki tried to tell him that he didn't mind, but Hiroki just waved him off and headed to his bedroom to get some new clothes and a towel. Nowaki sighed and watched Hiroki go into the bathroom and shut the door.

"Um, you and Professor Kamijou are together, right?" Misaki asked, fiddling with the edge of his t-shirt. He still had his head ducked like he thought he might get chalk flung at him for saying the wrong thing. He was clearly well-trained.

Nowaki smiled. "Not technically, I suppose," he said. He sounded wistful as he added, "I really do like him, though, so I'd like to have a bigger part in his life."

"Bigger than going home with him and carrying him over from the subway?" Misaki asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"This is the first time I've seen Hiro-san in almost a week. He does a good job avoiding me." Nowaki still had a smile on his face as he said this, like being avoided was a good memory. "Then again, I supposed we're both busy." He suddenly remembered that he'd had water boiling before Hiroki woke up, so he went back over to the stove and turned the burner up.

Misaki, for his part, was avoiding going home, so instead of leaving like Hiroki had told him, he stayed. He figured he was at least safe as long as Nowaki was around, combined with the fact that Hiroki seemed more docile when he wasn't in class and had a near infinite supply of chalk to fling at others.

And besides that, it was kind of nice to be around someone who wasn't Akihiko. He had his friend Sumi at school, but he spent so much time at the apartment those days that it was hard to remember what being around other people for an extended amount of time was like.

By the time Hiroki was done with his shower and came back out, Nowaki had found some noodles and decided to make him something to eat. It was an odd time to eat, but Nowaki had a feeling that staying up all night wasn't the only way Hiroki had been abusing his health lately. Hiroki, having expected both Nowaki and Misaki to be gone, had on a pair of sweatpants and nothing else save for a towel around his shoulders.

"I told you that you could go home," Hiroki said when he noticed Nowaki there in the kitchen. He didn't seem to see Misaki over on one of the couches.

"I just wanted to make sure you ate something, Hiro-san," Nowaki said with a warm smile. He'd been paying attention to the noodles, but then he looked up and spotted Hiroki. The smile melted from his face, replaced with a different look that made Hiroki slightly uncomfortable.

"What?" he asked.

He was answered when Nowaki covered the distance between them and kissed him gently, putting his hand to Hiroki's cheek. Hiroki blinked, mostly confused. And then, when Nowaki didn't pull away, he hesitantly opened his mouth, deepening the kiss.

It had been quite a while since Hiroki had kissed another man. Kissing had never seemed all that important to him considering his lack of any stable relationship throughout his life. It wasn't entirely different with Nowaki, but Hiroki mused as their tongues mingled that it was nice to be kissed by a man who actually seemed to care about him.

Then again, Hiroki could just yell and protest as he started doing as soon as Misaki coughed in an uncomfortable way.

"Would you—not touch me?" Hiroki said, pushing Nowaki away. He wiped his lips as if the memory of the kiss would wipe away as well, and he avoided looking at Misaki. "I'm a grown man, I don't need someone taking care of me."

Nowaki didn't answer, simply going back to the stove so he could finish preparing the noodles. Misaki, however, decided that was as good a time to leave as any and was out the door without even tying his shoes. Hiroki just muttered darkly and went to his bedroom to put a shirt on in an effort to not tempt Nowaki again.


	6. Not Giving Up

Hiroki had slept all through Thursday and gone back to work Friday feeling refreshed. He hadn't, however, seen Nowaki since he left Hiroki's apartment Thursday afternoon, giving him room to breathe and relax. Hiroki had even walked from the university instead of taking the subway on the way home, but his only reward for his efforts was Akihiko beeping his horn and waving at him as he stood outside the flower shop Nowaki was not, apparently, working at that evening.

Hiroki flipped him the bird and continued on, ignoring the sleek, red sports car as it rushed through a yellow light and down the street. He did glance up before the car was too far ahead, and though he saw Akihiko's head of silver hair, there was a distinct lack of a brown-haired boy there in the shotgun seat. Hiroki arched an eyebrow. Misaki wasn't in any of his classes that day, but Hiroki had been thinking on and off since Thursday night that Misaki would have hell to pay for running away from Akihiko.

Akihiko hadn't always been so possessive. It was probably this fact that kept Hiroki there beside him. Even during high school, they would meet in their secret spot in the woods between their houses, just sitting out there as Akihiko wrote in one of his expensive, leather-bound journals, and Hiroki complaining about the lessons he'd been taking since he could remember.

It had been years since Hiroki felt like he could unload his worries on the man who was supposed to be his best friend. Those days, Miyagi heard more of Hiroki's complaints than Akihiko even though Miyagi was often the cause of his worries.

Akihiko's car disappeared behind a hill, and Hiroki stared at the spot a moment longer before tearing his eyes away. They landed on the flower shop behind him, though, and Nowaki still wasn't there.

Hiroki shook his head, hiking the strap of his bag up onto his shoulder. He had no idea why he was obsessing over the man. Sure, the kiss the previous day had been nice, but that wasn't much to base a relationship off. Nowaki clearly wanted one, though. Hiroki wasn't stupid.

Hiroki tapped his lips with his pointer finger once before continuing down the sidewalk. He'd drifted off while thinking about the kiss. He'd never lost his bearing while thinking about a man, not even Akihiko. His heart did sink, though, when Akihiko replaced Nowaki in his mind.

That was probably why he was so hesitant to accept Nowaki. No matter what, Hiroki had been in love with Akihiko for too long to just drop it like that. Just thinking about being that shallow made him mad at himself.

Hiroki was about to cross the street when a worker ran out of the flower shop, a bouquet in his arms. Hiroki pulled his beanie down over his eyes, but he'd already been spotted. "Kamijou-san?"

"…yes?" Hiroki pulled the hat away from his eyes. He didn't recognize this man and he had no idea how this man knew him, but then, the shop owner had recognized him the last time he was around, so maybe he needed to stop asking questions.

"Nowaki-kun wanted us to give you these," the man said. It was a bouquet of sunflowers, just like the last two times, and Hiroki just stared at them like he was afraid they were going to explode.

Finally he took them, though, frozen and unable to express his thanks. The worker didn't seem to care, though, and he bowed and went back to the shop.

There was a card on the side of the flowers. When Hiroki pulled it off, he saw that it said, 'Hiro-san, I'm sorry I couldn't meet today, but I had to stay late at the school. Have a good weekend!- Nowaki.'

Hiroki sighed. Any other man, Hiroki would probably call him clingy. But he found himself smelling the sunflowers, the scowl almost leaving his face. He was still in public, after all.

xxx

Hiroki passed by the flower shop again the next day. He'd had to go into the university to do some work, since he had some catching up to do after missing an entire afternoon and evening. It was about four when Hiroki finally decided that he couldn't put up with Miyagi's whining anymore. He hadn't expected Miyagi to be there in the office during the weekend; since the divorce was finalized and he didn't have to go home to his ex-wife, Miyagi had been spending more and more time doing work at home. But he'd been there as Hiroki was trying to do the research he needed to continue his translation comparison of Akihiko's books, and it was hard to memorize English verb forms when Miyagi kept going on about how lonely it was in his apartment.

Miyagi also, however, had kept bugging Hiroki about his 'boyfriend.' Hiroki had told Miyagi that it wasn't like that between him and Nowaki, but Miyagi just wouldn't shut up about it. Hiroki had finally gotten pissed off enough to gather up his materials and tell Miyagi that if he wanted to gossip, he could wait for one of the female janitors to come around because he was going home. Miyagi hadn't really appreciated that, but he didn't stop Hiroki, either.

Hiroki did his best to not look into the flower shop as he passed it. When it came down to it, he had no idea why he didn't take the subway back to his apartment. It was only a couple hundred yen, and it wasn't like he was strapped for cash. He didn't go out drinking a lot and he hardly had any other kind of social life. Though, when Hiroki thought about it, once his bills were paid, he mostly spent his money on books. He supposed he was used to his parents bailing him out if he needed money. His mother did it even when he didn't ask her to, which he hadn't done since high school. He had his pride, after all.

"Hiro-san!"

Hiroki tensed his shoulders, recognizing Nowaki's voice. The man was exiting the flower shop just as Hiroki passed it, untying the uniform apron as he went. He had a radiant smile on his face, and Hiroki found himself stopping so Nowaki could catch up with him. Plenty of people passed by them on the sidewalk as Nowaki ran up to him, but Hiroki told himself that the fact that every single one of them stared at him was just in his head. It wasn't like they were kissing right there on the sidewalk, after all.

Not that Hiroki, of course, wanted them to kiss right there on the sidewalk.

"Were you at work, Hiro-san?" Nowaki asked, following Hiroki down the sidewalk.

"…yeah," Hiroki said. "But it's easier to get things done at home. Fewer distractions." Then he eyed Nowaki, who just smiled as they walked. "Is there any reason you're following me?"

"I thought I'd walk you home, Hiro-san," Nowaki said like it had been the obvious thing to do. "I felt bad that we couldn't see each other yesterday, and my shift at the shop is over, anyway."

"About that," Hiroki said as the crosswalk light turned green and they were able to continue. "If I gave you some kind of impression that I wanted to spend that much time with you, I'm sorry. But I have plenty going on in my life without you trying to fit yourself in there, too."

Nowaki shrugged. He didn't seem to mind what Hiroki said nearly as much as Hiroki hoped he would. "I know you're busy, Hiro-san, but I don't mind."

There was silence as they walked the rest of the way down the sidewalk. Hiroki's eye twitched when he realized that he wasn't going to get rid of Nowaki that easily.

When they finally got to Hiroki's apartment building, he wasn't sure what to do. Nowaki still stood there, smiling, probably waiting for Hiroki to do something. When Hiroki just stared at him instead of entering the building's pass code, Nowaki seemed to get the wrong idea. Or at least, what Hiroki defined as the wrong idea, because right there on the sidewalk for all to see, Nowaki leaned down and kissed him.

Hiroki lost his senses a lot easier than he liked to admit. It only took a few seconds of Nowaki's lips gently pressed against his for him to just give in, returning the kiss in a hesitant way. By the time Nowaki pulled away, Hiroki had his arms wrapped around Nowaki's neck. It took a couple seconds for Hiroki to realize where he was and what he'd just done, and the dazed look was quickly replaced with a scowl as he pulled away. "Don't expect this kissing thing to be a usual occurrence between us," Hiroki muttered, punching the pass code into the number pad.

"Is there something you'd prefer, Hiro-san?" Nowaki asked, sounding innocent.

Hiroki scowled again as the door beeped, allowing him access. He didn't give that the dignity of a response, but he did say, "Did you want to come in?" because at least Nowaki could provide him company without making him want to murder someone.

Once they were up in Hiroki's apartment, Hiroki went to make tea and Nowaki just stood there in the living room, marveling at everything. "I didn't realize the other day how many books you have, Hiro-san," Nowaki said in amazement.

Hiroki ducked his head as he turned the burner on. "I've collected them since I was a kid. My mother always told me I should get rid of some I never read anymore but I can't." He looked up to see Nowaki nod in sympathy, but the man wasn't looking at him anymore. He'd gone up to one of the bookshelves that stood there in the living room and was staring at a particular section of it. Hiroki recognized it as where he put his Usami Akihiko novels. He also recognized it as where he put the multiple copies of Akihiko's novels that he always bought. Even Akihiko didn't realize Hiroki ever had that habit, let alone that he kept it going several years later.

"Hiro-san, where did you get the English versions of Usami-san's novels?" Nowaki asked suddenly, tilting his head. When Hiroki's expression made it clear he wasn't going to answer, Nowaki continued with, "I just… remember meeting a man in America who had a ton."

"…oh?" Hiroki asked, staring down at the slowly boiling water.

Nowaki nodded. "After I graduated, my friends and I pooled our money and went to America for a while. Somewhere in Arizona, we picked up a man by the side of the highway who said he'd been thrown off the bus he was riding."

Hiroki gulped when he heard this. He remembered finally being saved by a car full of people who happened to speak Japanese, which he'd only found out because when they stopped, Hiroki had been yelling insults in Japanese down the highway and the driver had rolled down his window and spoke to him in perfect Japanese.

"He never told us his name, or where he was from, but he spoke Japanese and I remember him having a lot of Usami Akihiko novels with him," Nowaki went on. Hiroki gulped, looking uncomfortable. Nowaki finally tore his eyes away from the bookshelf. "Is something wrong, Hiro-san?"

"Um, I'm guessing that was me," Hiroki said, refusing to meet Nowaki's eye. The water finally came to a boil, and he removed the kettle. When Nowaki didn't say anything, Hiroki continued with, "I mean, it matches up to something that happened when I was in America. Although I have to wonder why you got a doctorate and still went on to be a kindergarten teacher."

"I only have a bachelor degree, Hiro-san," Nowaki said, sounding confused.

"So you started college late?"

"No, Hiro-san. I took the high school equivalency test at eighteen so I started on time," Nowaki said, trying not to sound condescending, but he didn't really understand why Hiroki was confused at the point.

"…so you're four years younger than me," Hiroki muttered as if that were the entire point of the conversation. He proceeded to put tea bags in the two cups of hot water and brought one out to Nowaki regardless of where the conversation was going.

Nowaki smiled and took the tea. "Is there something wrong with me only being twenty-four, Hiro-san?" Nowaki asked. He took the cup of tea, but when Hiroki sat beside him on the couch, he put it on the coffee table instead of drinking.

"I guess not," Hiroki conceded, but he still looked a bit uncomfortable. "It's not like we're in high school anymore, after all." Then he eyed Nowaki, remembering the conversation they'd had not even a minute ago. "And I guess I should say thanks for what happened in America." He had a kind of pouty look to him, mostly because he wasn't used to using the manners that were pounded into him growing up anymore. He definitely didn't like using them if he didn't need to.

Instead of replying, Nowaki leaned forward and kissed Hiroki again, despite Hiroki's assurances that this kissing thing wasn't going to be a regular occurrence. That left his mind as Nowaki pushed his tongue into Hiroki's mouth, pulling a soft whimper out of him despite himself. Hiroki felt himself melting into Nowaki's arms, letting the man lightly touch him all over.

It was when Nowaki's fingers found the buttons on his shirt and started working them that a memory popped up in Hiroki's mind. When he'd slept with Akihiko, after the blindfold went on, the first thing Hiroki did was kiss him deeply. It had been his first attempt to get his feelings through, but Akihiko had said nothing, just proceeding to undress him.

Hiroki was thrown back into a clear state of mind so fast he got whiplash, and he pushed Nowaki away from him. Nowaki tried to push forward and kiss him again, but Hiroki said, "Nowaki, no."

Nowaki tilted his head. "Is something the matter?"

Hiroki looked to the side, licking his lips and gathering his words. Then he said, "I just… have a lot of baggage to deal with. So now's not the time, okay?" He expected Nowaki to be mad, to protest, but instead, he felt Nowaki run a hand through his hair. When he finally looked at the man, he was smiling.

"Okay, Hiro-san," he said like he knew exactly what Hiroki was talking about. Instead of pushing the point, Nowaki moved away from Hiroki and picked up his cup of tea.

Hiroki was still nearly lying on his back, and instead of immediately sitting up, he sighed and pushed his bangs out of his eyes. He almost felt guilty for pushing Nowaki away given how understanding he was being, but there was no way he was just going to let it all happen without a fight.


	7. Relenting

It was about six o'clock on Wednesday, and Nowaki was getting ready to end his shift at the flower shop when someone came in. It was a young kid, probably still in high school, and despite the scowl on his face, he still looked like he had no idea what he was doing in there. The strange combination of him trying to look confident but utterly lacking confidence made Nowaki tie his apron back around behind him and walk up.

"Can I help you?" he asked with a kind smile. The boy had been looking at a bucket full of forget-me-nots, and he jumped in surprise, clearly not expecting someone to see him. "Were you looking for something specific?"

The boy was still scowling, and Nowaki tilted his head. There was something about him that reminded him of Hiroki, but he had a feeling Hiroki wouldn't appreciate Nowaki comparing him to a kid. Finally the boy said, "Roses. Red."

"Alright," Nowaki said, doing his best to keep his smile despite the boy's curt way of talking. As he went over to get some he asked, "How many would you like?"

"Two dozen," the boy answered quickly, like he had rehearsed exactly what he wanted to say before coming into the shop.

By the time Nowaki had gotten the order and the boy paid, Nowaki decided to leave. He'd already technically clocked out, but it'd only been a few minutes so he doubted the manager or owner would bother finding a way to count it against him. He hung his apron by the door and when he looked up, he found he and the boy were heading the same way.

"…are you following me?" the boy asked, hugging the bouquet to him like a lifeline, the wrapping crinkled in his delicate fingers.

"No," Nowaki said. "I'm actually going this way, to meet someone at M University."

"Then I guess we're going the same way," the boy muttered, averting his eyes. He seemed uncomfortable with how friendly Nowaki was. "Your nametag said your name is Kusama, right?"

"Kusama Nowaki, yes."

"Good to meet you," the boy said, but he didn't offer his own name.

Meanwhile, at the university, Hiroki had been working late trying to grade the first paper of the semester for his Intro the Japanese Literature class. The students had groaned when they saw there was a paper due so early, but Hiroki wouldn't be Hiroki if he relented just because his students were lazy, self-entitled brats. Most of the papers were mediocre at best, though, and some were so jumbled and nonsensical that he was starting to worry for the future of the human race. Takahashi Misaki's, Hiroki noticed, was one of the latter. At least he couldn't blame Akihiko for liking the kid for something as shallow as similar interests, he thought with a sarcastic snort.

"Ka-mi-jou," came a voice, and Hiroki's eye twitched but he ignored it. Miyagi entered their office with two disposable cups of coffee, clearly ready to pull an all-nighter after Hiroki informed him that he refused to do Miyagi's work for him when he was perfectly capable of accomplishing it himself. The older man set one down on Hiroki's desk, though, and he eyed it. "What? I didn't put poison in it if that's what you're worried about."

"…thanks," he said, picking up the cup and taking a long drink from it. It was black, just as he liked it. He was amazed Miyagi remembered that, though with how many 'black like your soul' jokes he'd made, perhaps he shouldn't have been incredibly surprised.

"You're welcome," Miyagi said, sounding satisfied. "I'm glad you accept my peace offering."

Hiroki eyed the cup once more, like he believed it wasn't poisoned but he wouldn't have put it past Miyagi to drug it in some other way. "Peace offering?" And then he remembered: Miyagi had gone overboard with his flirting earlier, to the point where he'd tried to hug Hiroki and the two ended up crashing through about five carefully arranged piles of books. Hiroki kicked him out and locked the door. Miyagi must have finally remembered he had a key to the place.

"I'm sorry!" Miyagi said, and he tackled Hiroki in a hug, careful to not make Hiroki crash to the floor for the second time that day. "You know I love you and I'd never do anything to hurt you on purpose my dear, sweet, Hiroki."

Hiroki flailed, trying to get Miyagi to let go of him, but the man's grip was iron-tight. "Would you get off me, Professor?"

"Get you off? That's not exactly appropriate for the office, Hiroki," Miyagi said in a sing-song voice. "And besides, what would that tall, handsome boyfriend of yours say?"

"He'd say to let go of Hiro-san."

Before Miyagi knew what was happening, someone had grabbed the back of his dress shirt. Hiroki's rolling chair only went about half a foot with him before he let go of his colleague and was tossed haphazardly against the doorframe. He blinked and looked up into the scowling face of a young boy. He grinned in a nervous sort of way and said, "Shinobu! I didn't know you'd be here."

Shinobu scowled even harder, thrust the two-dozen red roses he'd gotten from the flower shop into Miyagi's chest, and stormed off, clearly not willing to talk about it. Miyagi frowned and stared down at the flowers like he wasn't quite sure what they were. One look at Nowaki standing there beside Hiroki made his mind up for him, though, and he ran off to console Shinobu.

Hiroki sighed and ran a hand through his hair, trying to pat it down into a more professional look. It had been messed up long before that incident, though, and he finally gave up on it and rolled back into his desk so he could continue working.

Nowaki placed a hand on Hiroki's head and said, "Does that happen a lot, Hiro-san?"

"What, that brat coming in and throwing a fit over Professor Miyagi? Only in the last couple days." Hiroki's face had gone a light shade of red, but he did his best to ignore it as he pushed his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose and went about marking up another essay with his red pen. "No idea who that kid even is."

"That's not what I meant, Hiro-san." Nowaki's voice was soft, but when Hiroki dared to look up at him, it was clear from the serious look on his face what his concern was.

Hiroki cleared his throat. "Professor Miyagi constantly flirts with me but he's not serious about it. It's a horrible distraction at best." When that didn't seem to appease Nowaki, he turned back to his paper and added, "He did it before he even knew I was gay. And Professor Miyagi was married at one point so I doubt he's even interested in men."

Nowaki nodded and went over to sit in Miyagi's vacated chair, clearly willing to wait for Hiroki to finish his work so they could leave together. They'd never agreed to meet up, and Hiroki was a bit put-off that Nowaki had assumed he could just walk in and expect to spend time with Hiroki. There was also the fact that they hadn't seen each other since that Saturday when Hiroki had pushed Nowaki away. He had pretty much expected Nowaki to have given up and gone on to pursue someone who wasn't so cranky and more emotionally open, but here he was.

The final straw was, of course, that he felt the need to defend Miyagi to Nowaki. Akihiko had spent time in Hiroki's office since he got the job at M, and he'd been witness to more than one of Miyagi's affectionate displays. Hiroki never felt the need to tell Akihiko that Miyagi was just an idiot, not for a lack of curious looks and innuendo-laced questions on Akihiko's part.

Hiroki was honestly surprised that after half a year, Akihiko hadn't thought to write one of those depraved Junai novels about them. This caused Hiroki to shift his eyes over to Nowaki, curious as to whether Akihiko would get the wrong idea about them and start another book should he run out of ideas to torture poor Misaki with.

He snorted. Probably.

"Is something the matter, Hiro-san?" Nowaki asked, tilting his head. Hiroki blinked and realized that he had been staring in Nowaki's general direction for almost a minute. Before he could make up some kind of excuse, though, voices sounded down the hallway, and Hiroki and Nowaki both turned.

"Why am I even telling you this?" Miyagi asked.

"Because I love you!" And that was Shinobu. "I told you, you need to take responsibility."

Hiroki and Nowaki's eyes met, and it was clear they were thinking the same thing: it would be safer to just get the hell out of there. So, Hiroki gathered up his things, not thinking to take his glasses off, and they were out the door just in time to pass a very irate Shinobu and a very tired-looking Miyagi in the hall.

Suddenly, though, Hiroki stopped, whirled around, and stared at Shinobu. "Holy hell I do know that kid."

"Hiro-san?"

"He's the dean of literature's youngest," Hiroki said as they continued on so the bickering pair wouldn't hear them. "I met him briefly when I first got the job here. Jesus that's hilarious!" Once he had started laughing, Hiroki found it rather difficult to stop, and they left the university with Nowaki smiling and Hiroki laughing like he'd just heard the best joke in the world. There were students milling around for evening classes, and they quickly parted like the Red Sea for the two men to go through, not wanting to find out just why Kamijou the Devil was laughing like that.

Hiroki was in such a good mood, in fact, that when they left the grounds of M University and Nowaki took his hand, he didn't even protest. So they walked like that for a few blocks, their hands swinging together between them and Nowaki suggesting ways they could spend the evening.

"I haven't been to the bookstore in a while," Hiroki said absently. He had calmed down by then, but Nowaki's firm hold on his hand hadn't been broken with a glare and a million excuses for why they couldn't do that in public, or at all, depending on Hiroki's mood. Without having to say any more, the two headed towards the subway so Hiroki could go to his favorite bookstore.

It was only when they got off the subway (Hiroki had broken the hand contact in his predictably grouchy way) and they were walking that Nowaki realized where they were. They approached a building Hiroki had never really paid attention to on his way to Marimo Books, but Nowaki had to stop and stare.

"What?" Hiroki asked, the good mood from earlier dissipated since he'd had to spend time sandwiched into the subway between people he didn't know and, based on their body odors, didn't care to know. He shifted his eyes to the building and recognized, from the sign, that it was a kindergarten.

"Ah, this is where I work, Hiro-san," Nowaki said with a smile. "Other than the flower shop, I mean." There was a gate around the front and probably the back as well, and Hiroki stared at the place as well. It was where Nowaki spent a good amount of his time when he wasn't stalking Hiroki, and Hiroki found himself wondering just what Nowaki was like when he was with all those children, teaching them to read kana and other things.

It had, obviously, been quite a while since Hiroki was in kindergarten so he wasn't exactly aware of what they learned at that particular stage of schooling.

Nowaki continued on, done staring at the building, and as they walked down the street and closer to the business district that housed Marimo Books, Hiroki couldn't help but think that maybe he needed to know more about the man that was trying to steal his heart.


	8. Knowledge

Thursday afternoon, Hiroki found himself leaving the university shortly after his last class and heading towards the train station with a specific destination in mind. The weather was nice, and if he had been up to it, he would've walked. He even thought about it, but as he stood in front of the station debating, he was alarmed to see Akihiko's car approaching. Before he could run into the station, though, he was spotted.

"Hiroki!" Akihiko called, leaning over Misaki since the passenger side was the one facing the sidewalk. "Do you need a ride?"

Hiroki gave the subway a world-weary look before approaching Akihiko's car. He put a hand on top of the car and said, "I'm not going home right now."

"I'm sure wherever you're headed isn't too far out of the way." Akihiko smiled radiantly, and Hiroki and Misaki both couldn't help but give him incredulous stares. Misaki had probably never seen it, but Hiroki knew that it was the smile Akihiko always showed the press. There were rumors, of course, about how eccentric he was, but he never had a hair out of place for interviews.

Hiroki sighed and pushed away from the car. "Just go home. I'll be fine."

Akihiko looked like he was going to say more, but Hiroki backed away from the car and headed into the subway.

"Hiroki, wait!"

Hiroki scowled when he realized that Akihiko had parked on the street and was running down the steps of the subway. He caught a glance of Misaki; the boy looked panicked as he tried to decide what to do. Hiroki had to smirk when he remembered the 'NO PARKING' signs posted in front of the subway entrance.

"Why do you keep avoiding me?" Akihiko demanded, taking one of Hiroki's elbows as the man tried to make his way to a ticket machine.

The intercom overhead announced the arrival of a train, and Hiroki noted he'd have to hurry and get a ticket if he wanted to make it on time.

"Akihiko, we haven't spent any real amount of time together in years. I don't see why you're just now noticing." He used his free hand to remove Akihiko's hand.

Instead of giving up, though, Akihiko raised his hand up and put it on top of Hiroki's head. Hiroki hunched his shoulders and felt his face go red; it had been a while since Akihiko had touched him in any capacity, and despite himself, he remembered how good it always felt. It didn't matter that there were no romantic intentions behind it.

If they hadn't been in such an utterly public place, Hiroki might have considered coming clean. He'd been keeping his feelings in for the majority of eighteen years. He had sex with the man and hadn't managed to say 'I love you.' If he had, maybe he'd be the one sitting shotgun in Akihiko's car, living in that huge apartment and sharing his bed.

"I just-"

"Hiro-san!"

Hiroki didn't have to look to know it was Nowaki, but Akihiko did. He kept his hand on Hiroki's head and arched an eyebrow as Nowaki approached them. "And you are?"

"Kusama Nowaki. Good afternoon." Nowaki bowed, but his eyes remained on the hand Akihiko had in Hiroki's hair. He smiled when Akihiko's eyes registered recognition. Then, without warning, he wrapped an arm around Hiroki and pulled him against his body, out of Akihiko's grasp. "Hiro-san came here to meet up with me, so if you don't mind…"

Akihiko didn't argue the point even though Hiroki had clearly been headed for a ticket kiosk. Nowaki let go of Hiroki's torso and moved his grasp to Hiroki's hand. As Nowaki led them up to street level, Hiroki kept his eyes on the ground. He could feel Akihiko's touch, but it contrasted with the warmth of Nowaki's hand over his in a way that wasn't entirely unpleasant.

They were about a block down the street when Nowaki finally said, "Is everything okay, Hiro-san?"

Hiroki didn't even have the energy to lie. He just kept his head ducked as he shook it, a lump in his throat and tears threatening his eyes. Before he knew it, Nowaki was directing him again and was handing him a tissue from his bag. Hiroki just let him.

Hiroki found himself being let into a tiny apartment. It was even smaller than the one he'd had up until he made a break for America. His contract had been about to run out, and instead of renewing it or finding another apartment, he'd moved his things into storage at Akihiko's and caught an economy class plane to New York.

"I'll make some tea," Nowaki said as he stepped out of the genkan. He waved vaguely at what appeared to be both the living and bedroom. The only piece of furniture, Hiroki noticed with chagrin, was a futon. It wasn't even on a bed frame.

He'd almost had a breakdown in public, though, so he figured sitting on a man's bed was no bigger a blow to his pride than that. So, he sat down on the futon and removed his glasses so he could rub his eyes.

Of course, the stove was about five feet away, so Nowaki could see Hiroki's actions. He set the water to boil on the stove and sat down on the floor in front of Hiroki. "Hiro-san, what's wrong?" When Hiroki didn't answer, Nowaki reached up and buried his hand in Hiroki's hair. "You know you can tell my anything, Hiro-san."

"I've known you for three weeks," Hiroki muttered, but he didn't push Nowaki's hand away when he reached up and cupped his cheek. "I don't want to talk about it, all right?"

"All right, Hiro-san," Nowaki said. He stared into Hiroki's eyes for a few seconds before leaning forward and kissing him.

Given his thoughts just ten minutes before, Hiroki had alarms going off in his head. Akihiko had so easily reminded Hiroki why he hadn't had a successful relationship: he had latched onto Akihiko and couldn't let go. It wasn't like he didn't want to.

"Nowaki," Hiroki said, pulling away from the kiss.

"It's okay, Hiro-san," Nowaki said, smiling. He reached forward and ruffled Hiroki's hair again. Then he stood and went to attend to the tea.

Hiroki sighed, his body shuddering against the will to cry. He wouldn't do it for Akihiko so he couldn't do it for Nowaki.

Just to keep himself occupied, Hiroki said, "What were you doing getting off the subway so early, anyway? I thought your school ended at two-thirty."

Nowaki finally seemed to realize something, and he reached for his cell phone in his pocket. Hiroki had never thought to pay attention, but it was an old model. It didn't have a keyboard, it looked a bit beat up, and Hiroki doubted it even had mobile internet. Hiroki briefly wondered why he lived like a broke college student when he had one-and-a-half steady jobs. "Oh. I was supposed to visit the orphanage today so I requested to leave early. I guess I forgot when I saw you." He entered a number into the keypad and then put the phone to his ear.

Hiroki stopped dead at that, ignoring the high-pitched whistle that signaled the water for their tea was ready. Nowaki had never said much about himself in the times they got together, and suddenly he was casually mentioning visits to orphanages. It made him wonder, as Nowaki apologized to someone and said he'd be a little late, what exactly his past was.

"I'm sorry, Hiro-san," Nowaki said with a sheepish smile. "I do have somewhere to be today…"

"It's all right," Hiroki muttered, standing up from the futon and dusting himself off. He'd rather go home and sulk, anyway. Instead of saying that, though, he cleared his throat. "What were you saying about an orphanage?"

Nowaki ducked his head. "I visit them once a month. The Kusama Orphanage, where I grew up."

Hiroki instantly remembered his thought the other day, about wanting to know more about Nowaki even if he wasn't going to give his heart away so easily. So, he found himself asking, "Would you… mind if I came, too?" and was relieved when Nowaki smiled widely and nodded.

xxx

"Do you really need all this crap?" Hiroki asked as they lugged boxes of sweets with them on the way to the Kusama Orphanage. Hiroki hadn't thought much of it when Nowaki had stopped in a convenience store on the way, thinking he just wanted coffee or something, so when he started picking up more and more food, he was understandably confused.

"I always bring the children dessert," Nowaki explained as he checked out, the woman at the counter smiling like they were good friends. Considering Nowaki apparently visited the Kusama Orphanage once a month, they probably were by then. "The place isn't very hard-up for money, but they don't usually spend money on things they don't need. Mother always said you never know when something might go wrong."

Hiroki had grumbled about coddling kids but picked up his own share of bags and followed Nowaki out the door.

Now, they stood in the front of the building, children in school uniforms passing through, saying hello to Nowaki and eying Hiroki like they weren't quite sure what to do with him. A woman finally emerged through the door of what Hiroki assumed was an office, and she had a bright smile on her face as she approached Nowaki. "Oh Wacchan, you always bring so much," she said, eying the bags that both Nowaki and Hiroki were holding.

Hiroki snorted in amusement. "Wacchan," he said, smiling to himself but hiding it as best he could.

The woman seemed to notice Hiroki at that point, and she raised her eyebrows at Nowaki, waiting for an introduction. "Ah, Mother, this is my friend, Kamijou Hiroki."

"It's good to meet you," Hiroki said in his most formal voice, bowing deeply.

Something in Mother's eyes changed, and she turned to Nowaki. "Wacchan, can you bring these things to the kitchen? We'll be out back."

"We?" Hiroki asked vaguely, but before he could do any more, he was being pushed along by Mother to the backyard.

The smaller children were playing since they had gotten back from school and didn't yet have to do their homework. There was a bench, and Mother patted it and Hiroki sat down beside her. "Um, you'll have to excuse me," Hiroki said a bit awkwardly. "I don't really know much. Nowaki only told me this afternoon that he grew up here."

"Hah, he doesn't like people feeling sorry for him, I suppose," Mother said. "But yes, ever since he was an infant. My husband and I run this orphanage, and we found him on our doorstep. He couldn't have been more than a few days old, and yet he had managed to survive a ferocious storm until my husband found him and brought him in."

"I'm guessing you and your husband named him."

"Yes," Mother answered. "He didn't have anything with him but a blanket, and my husband said he searched the area but couldn't find a single soul. We both realize naming him after a typhoon when we found him during one isn't that creative but…" Here she shrugged. "He has the personality, I suppose."

At that point, Nowaki had come outside from dropping off the treats in the kitchen, but instead of immediately approaching Hiroki and Mother, he got caught up at the lone swing set on the premises and ended up pushing two children at once, smiling as they told him about all the things he'd missed in the month he was gone.

"He dropped out of school after he graduated junior high so he could get a job and move out on his own," Mother continued. "But when he turned eighteen he was so determined to go to college. He was, and still is, very bright, though. And some people who sponsor us gave Nowaki scholarships so he was able to get through with very little debt."

Hiroki ducked his head, not sure what he'd do if he kept watching Nowaki play with the children in such a carefree way. He thought about asking Mother why she was telling him all this, but he kept his mouth clamped shut as he processed the rush of information.

"Hiro-san!" Nowaki called, still pushing both children. "Don't you want to play?"

"I'm good!" Hiroki called. To Mother, he added, "I'm, um, not very good with kids." Then he added in a mutter, "At least that's what my parents tell me."

Mother started laughing, her graying dark hair bouncing and her whole body shaking. Hiroki could, he supposed, see why Nowaki still loved and respected this woman. He could also, if he had to admit it, see where Nowaki got his carefree personality.

He kind of liked it better on Nowaki, though.


	9. A Little At A Time

There was just something about the Kusama Orphanage that made Hiroki forget the time, and by the time Mother pointed out that supper was cooking, it was six in the evening and Hiroki hadn't gotten a single bit of work done since leaving the university. He did manage to have a rather extensive discussion with Nowaki's 'mother' as Nowaki played with the children, though.

"So how exactly did you and Wacchan meet, anyway?" Mother asked as the children filed inside, some pushing others a bit in hopes that they could be first to the kitchen and therefore get the freshest food. The extensive conversation had mostly been stories about Nowaki's childhood, so even though Hiroki now knew everything from Nowaki's first word to the fact that he took piano lessons until he dropped out of school after junior high, Mother didn't really know much about Hiroki.

Hiroki ducked his head, watching as Nowaki helped a smaller child off one of the swings. She'd been abandoned by her friends at the mention of food, and of course the big-hearted goof couldn't leave her alone. "Ah, I went into a flower shop to get my mother a bouquet for her birthday, and it happened to be the one he works part time in," he finally said, trying not to sound as embarrassed as he felt.

"Ah, so you don't work together?"

"No, ma'am. I'm a professor of literature at M University so… same field, different level, I guess." There was something about Mother that kept Hiroki's polite barrier up, although perhaps it was as close to meeting Nowaki's parents as he would get. The man Nowaki called Father was out for the day, it seemed, on some kind of business that had to do with funding for the orphanage. When Hiroki had commented on that, though, Mother had said that there would be plenty of other days for them all to meet.

"Hiro-san, we should probably go now," Nowaki pointed out. Hiroki hadn't heard Nowaki approach so he jumped in surprise, but Nowaki didn't even flinch. "It was good to see you again, Mother. I'm glad everything is going well."

Mother smiled. "You don't have to be so formal, you know," she said, and at that she hugged him. Hiroki shifted from one foot to the other, feeling just a bit uncomfortable. He felt just a bit more uncomfortable when Mother turned to him and gave him a hug as well. The same instinct that had kept Hiroki's manners intact for the entire visit kept him from telling her to let go. She still did before the hug could manage to get awkward, though. "Feel free to come over more than once a month. But stop spoiling the kids, Nowaki."

Nowaki just smiled and nodded, not agreeing or disagreeing with Mother's assessment of his habits. As they made their way through the building so Nowaki and Hiroki could catch the train back to their respective apartments, Hiroki couldn't help but scowl at all the noise the children were making. Some of them had already sat down to dinner and, not being told they had to wait for the others, said their blessing and dug right in. The girl whom Nowaki had helped off the swing was waiting at the back of the line that went into the kitchen, but one of the older children who'd already gotten some smiled and gave his plate to her.

Hiroki couldn't, of course, get out of his mind the stories about Nowaki always giving up things for the children since he was often the oldest child in the orphanage. It seemed like something he would do, of course. Hiroki had had Nowaki's selflessness demonstrated for him more than once, to the point where he wondered if the man even recognized that Hiroki was actually a selfish, irredeemable bastard who was incapable of loving him because he was stuck on another man.

That was, perhaps, stretching it. The first evidence of this was the fact that, as they left, Nowaki took Hiroki's hand and Hiroki didn't fight it. He had a scowl on his face, but he'd already had one from going through the crowd of children on the way out. Nowaki didn't look like he for a minute thought Hiroki would fight the gesture: he didn't have a nervous look on his face, he didn't take Hiroki's hand in a hesitant way like he'd be able to save himself or make up and excuse about what he was doing if Hiroki pulled back his hand right away. Nowaki had genuine confidence, where Hiroki felt like his confidence only came from the fact that he was already established to the people he knew (and the people who knew who he knew) as someone with a violent temper.

There was silence between the two as they headed towards the train station. The sun was almost completely below the horizon and they were surrounded by streetlights flickering on and children heading home from club activities, or people their age going out to eat with family or friends. Not a single one of these people took a second glance at the two men passing by hand-in-hand, or if they did, Hiroki's eagle eye for people silently criticizing him was getting tired.

To break the silence, because Hiroki hated when he was around someone and neither of them ever had anything to say, he said, "Do you really spend that much money every month getting treats for those kids?"

"Yes, Hiro-san," Nowaki said, not missing a beat. "Mother and Father have done a lot for me, so now that I'm out on my own, I feel like I should do things for them. They won't let me directly donate, though so I buy treats for the children. They never really complain about me feeding them, even though the things I get aren't exactly healthy."

"It explains why you live like a broke college student, at least," Hiroki muttered. They were to the subway by then, and Hiroki intentionally broke his grip on Nowaki's hand as they descended. He was feeling a little bit nervous about subways since the scene Akihiko had put on earlier that day.

Nowaki only answered that after he and Hiroki had gotten their tickets. They were going to the same stop, since it appeared that Nowaki didn't care if he had to walk a little. Hiroki was annoyed that the first explanation that came to mind for that was that Nowaki wanted to spend more time with him. He was getting soft.

"I mostly live in that apartment because I don't need much more than that," he said. Their train wouldn't be coming for another five minutes, so they sat down at a bench near the platform. "I could probably afford a bigger one if I wanted, but it would probably feel lonely. My contract for that one runs out next month, though, so I might consider it."

"You might be moving?" Hiroki asked, and even he had to note the small twinge of panic in his voice, as if Nowaki finding a different apartment in a different part of Tokyo affected him.

"Yes, I suppose." Nowaki nodded. "Although as I said, a bigger apartment would feel lonely to me, so I just plan to renew the contract on my old one."

Hiroki's head snapped up as their train was announced, and before he could say what was on his mind, he ran for the platform. He almost sideswiped a girl in a local high school's uniform with his bag, and when she scowled at him, Nowaki smiled at her. "I'm sorry! Hiro-san is a very impatient man. I hope he didn't hurt you." Then he bowed and quickly followed Hiroki into the train, leaving the girls stunned.

"If you did move, where would you go?" Hiroki mumbled. He really did want to know, but a part of him was almost afraid of the answer and was hoping that the sound of the train taking off would drown out his voice.

It didn't, though. "Not too far, I suppose. I still have two jobs here in Bunkyo and it'd be a hassle to increase my commute time just to get a nicer apartment."

"Yeah," Hiroki agreed, not looking at him. "Have you already renewed your contract?"

"No," Nowaki said. "I probably should talk to my landlord about it soon, though." When he looked at Hiroki, he noticed that the man was looking nervous. Hiroki was often nervous, Nowaki found, but he would put up a front to try to make it seem like he was perfectly in control of any situation. It was, Nowaki thought with a smile, one of the things he loved about the man. It was cute, but he didn't call Hiroki cute. To his face. "Is something wrong, Hiro-san?"

"It just seems pointless to move into a big apartment and be all alone," Hiroki said, the nervous expression melting from his face. He folded his arms, and Nowaki didn't bother to point out to Hiroki that he'd been saying he just planned to renew his contract. "Not like I necessarily approve of roommates. Never had one growing up since I was an only child, and I never had one in any of my apartments since moving out of my parents' house." He seemed to be implying something, but when Nowaki clearly hadn't gotten it, Hiroki huffed and said, "I do have two bedrooms, though."

"They're both full of books, Hiro-san. The only difference is that one has a bed." Nowaki was still smiling, though, and Hiroki looked almost proud at that.

There was no one who could say Hiroki ever thought he had too many books. If he had his way and the proper funding, he'd probably buy a house of his own and fill its rooms with shelves upon shelves filled to bursting with books and still have even more piles around because no amount of space was ever enough.

Nowaki commenting on Hiroki's sheer number of books only distracted him for about ten seconds, though, because he said, "You're missing my point, Nowaki."

"And what's your point, Hiro-san?" He had an idea, but he wanted Hiroki to say it out loud. Nowaki was aware of just how much pride Hiroki had, and that it hurt said pride to have to spell these kinds of things out, but when Nowaki looked back on this moment years later, he wanted to remember it in full.

"…I'm saying I wouldn't completely hate it if you wanted to move into that second room. Not like I can't put all that stuff somewhere else." Hiroki clutched his bag to his chest like it was his only tether to the Earth. "And maybe if I had a roommate my mother would stop bugging me about the fact that I'm such an anti-social bastard."

"Just because you don't go out a lot doesn't mean you're anti-social, Hiro-san," Nowaki said, completely forgoing his answer to the first point.

"Maybe, but I still am," Hiroki said with a sad smile, still clutching his bag. "Most of the people in my department don't even know my given name. They've stopped bothering to invite me out for drinks because they know I'll say no. Not that spending my time drinking with people I don't like is my idea of fun. I got plenty of that in college." He seemed to realize he was being distracted from his point, though, so he actually looked up. "If you don't want to take my offer, just say so. It's not going to break my heart."

"I'd love to, Hiro-san, if you don't think it'd be too much trouble," Nowaki said. And then he took Hiroki's hand again. "I'll help with rent of course."

"Idiot, I've paid it fine for half a year and it's not increasing just because you're moving in," Hiroki muttered. "You need to save your money. And Mother's right, you spend too much spoiling those kids." He resisted the urge to call them brats, and the only excuse he could think of was that it was clear that the children at the orphanage meant a lot to him.

Nowaki smiled, intertwining his fingers with Hiroki's. Hiroki did pull away at that, a put-out look on his face, but as their stop was called, it did nothing to dampen Nowaki's enthusiasm about their future plans.


	10. Arrangements

As the time passed before Nowaki's apartment contract ran out, the man ended up spending more and more time at Hiroki's apartment. He'd been moving what little he had over, but Hiroki refused to let him keep sleeping on the old futon. Nowaki had hoped that implied Hiroki was inviting him to just sleep together, but it actually seemed to mean that they went shopping for a bed for him one Saturday afternoon.

"I don't really care, Hiro-san," Nowaki said as a show room extended out before them. Hiroki had tried to get Nowaki to specify the kind of bed he wanted, but it wasn't working. At the orphanage they were given what they were able to get, caring more about blankets to keep them warm than the relative comfort of the beds. Then he'd had that futon to sleep on when he'd lived on his own, not really caring enough to get more.

A salesgirl with a sensible bob cut and wearing a skirt suit approached them. Hiroki had seen her watching them almost right after they entered the store, but she looked like she wasn't sure she wanted to talk to them. Hiroki wasn't sure why; they didn't look any more suspicious than the other people who'd wandered in.

It was about then that Hiroki realized Nowaki had taken his hand. Their fingers were laced together in a rather obvious way between them. Hiroki tugged his hand free as the woman said, "Can I help you, gentlemen?"

"Maybe you can talk some sense into him." Hiroki scowled, jamming a thumb at Nowaki. "He needs a new bed."

"I really don't, Hiro-san," Nowaki insisted.

"You're sleeping on an eight-year-old futon. It doesn't even have a frame!" Hiroki said. He sounded indignant, like Nowaki's bed directly affected him.

"It's not as if we're sleeping together on it," Nowaki said.

It was the truth, but it still made Hiroki blush. "Just go with her. I have some other shopping to do." He turned and waved behind him before leaving the store.

In truth, what Hiroki wanted to get was a cookbook or two. Where Nowaki had taught himself to cook from living alone for years, Hiroki had ended up living off fast food and instant meals. He'd never really tried to cook; it was one of the few skills he hadn't taken a class for growing up.

As he made his way towards the how-to section, he noticed a familiar face over in the shonen manga section. He really should've known better than to approach Takahashi Misaki, but he'd been admittedly curious about Akihiko's state since the encounter in the subway.

"He actually let you off your leash?"

Misaki jumped in surprise, dropping a volume of Za Kan he'd been reading the back of. When he whirled around he saw Hiroki standing there, arms folded and only his eyes revealing that he was at least the slightest bit amused. Misaki, however, didn't seem all that amused at seeing his professor outside of the university, especially on a weekend. "Ah, good afternoon, Professor Kamijou," he said, bowing and doing his best to make his smile not look manic. "Actually, Usagi-san had some book signings in Hokkaido today, so he and Aikawa-san left yesterday morning."

"And he didn't drag you along with him?" Hiroki asked, sounding surprised. Of course he hadn't since Hiroki had had Misaki in his Intro to Japanese Literature class on Friday, but that was beside the point.

Misaki ducked his head as he leaned down to retrieve the Za Kan tankobon. "Aikawa-san pointed out that I still had class, and that I take care of Usagi-san, not the other way around. And so Usagi-san agreed to leave me at home. It wasn't easy."

"You take care of him."

"Yes!" Misaki said, nodding and feeling just a little less uncomfortable. "Instead of paying rent, I cook and clean."

Hiroki had been ready to just leave Misaki there, but he stopped at 'cook.' He glanced towards the front of the store, where he could just see the furniture shop across the street. He couldn't see Nowaki, though. There was no way he'd be willing to ask Misaki for help with cooking if Nowaki was there to experience it. The man probably thought he could do everything, after all, and who was Hiroki to destroy that illusion?

xxx

Nowaki had a shift at the flower shop that day, and he'd texted Hiroki while he and Misaki were looking at cookbooks to say he was just going to head right over. He'd only be there for a few hours, though. Hiroki hadn't asked exactly how long he'd be there, so he was unprepared for Nowaki to show up when Misaki was still there in the apartment.

"Well… you've known him since you were kids, right?" Misaki asked. "He can get into a brooding mood sometimes and then that huge apartment gets really quiet."

Before Hiroki could reply, the door opened and Nowaki stepped into the genkan. It was at that point that Hiroki regretted that he had finally convinced Nowaki that it was going to be his place soon as well and so he didn't need to knock every time he came over. He seemed surprised when he looked up from his sneakers and saw Misaki there in the kitchen. "Oh, hello Misaki-kun. I didn't know you'd be coming over today."

Hiroki looked rather uncomfortable at the fact that he hadn't been able to get rid of Misaki before Nowaki came home. He'd been teaching him about cooking all afternoon, and by then, Misaki had almost forgotten that Hiroki was the demonic professor that all of his classmates feared. He wouldn't tell Hiroki, but he'd been a bit lonely in Akihiko's apartment with the man gone. Sumi-senpai was gone on a weekend trip, and of course his brother lived too far away for a simple weekend trip to be worth it.

"…Akihiko abandoned the kid for the weekend," Hiroki muttered, putting the lasagna Misaki had mostly put together himself into the oven. When he looked back up at Nowaki, the man was smiling. "What?"

"Nothing, Hiro-san," Nowaki said as he put his bag down beside one of the couches. "I'm going to take a shower."

"Yeah, yeah," Hiroki said, looking put-out but at what, even he wasn't sure. Nowaki grabbed some new clothes out of the dresser Hiroki had managed to unearth in the spare bedroom after moving most of the books in there to his own room and went into the bathroom, which Misaki seemed to take as a cue to leave.

"It was good seeing you again, Professor Kamijou," Misaki said, bowing.

Hiroki shook his head. "I know Nowaki would ask you to stay for dinner if he thought he had to," he said, not sounding pleased with it. Misaki paused at that, looking confused. "Do you want to? I won't make you."

Misaki nodded, but he still picked up his bag. "Um, why don't I go out and get some stuff for a salad? I noticed you don't have much around so…"

"Yeah yeah, just go," Hiroki said, waving his hand. Misaki was hesitant, so he added, "What?"

Hiroki could practically see the ellipses over Misaki's head as he just stood there. He knew that look, though; it was the look his students tended to get when they were trying to decide if talking to him one-on-one was a good idea or not. Apparently his self-preservation instinct had gone on vacation, though, because he finally said, "Do you and Kusama-san live together?"

"…we will starting next month," Hiroki muttered. When Misaki gave him a strange look, he said, "We're not actually together, Takahashi."

"You aren't? Usagi-san seems to think differently," Misaki said. "He um, was writing another Junai novel but threw it out and started doing something about you two a few weeks back."

There was silence as Hiroki just stared at him, and Misaki blushed up to his ears.

"Not that I actually read that stuff!" he said, waving his arms in front of him to emphasize his point. "Anyway, I'll go down to the store and be back. I should be back before the lasagna's done but I did set the timer so you can take it out yourself if you need to." When Hiroki just kept staring at him, Misaki quickly slipped on his shoes and ran out the door without another word.

Hiroki would honestly be surprised if Misaki came back.

Hiroki eventually got bored with just staring at the oven timer, so he wandered down the hall to his room. He'd gotten a new bed when he moved into the new apartment; it was a queen size, and while it was nice for when he wanted to sit in bed doing research and needed tons of books spread around him, other than that, he had no idea why he'd gotten such a huge bed. Perhaps it was just that he'd spent so many years in a twin-sized bed, accidently rolling out of it if he tossed and turned in his sleep too much.

He winced as he pushed some books aside and a few fell to the floor, but he didn't bother picked them up as he sat down on his bed. The shower had turned off in the bathroom, so Nowaki was probably almost done in there.

Sure enough, just as Hiroki was getting into reading a book he'd abandoned the other day, Nowaki came through. He'd showered in Hiroki's apartment before and ended up walking around without his shirt, but he'd probably figured Misaki was still there and didn't want to give the kid a heart attack. It didn't take much for Nowaki to realize Misaki was a rather skittish person.

Nowaki went past Hiroki's bedroom door, but then he came back. "Hiro-san, did Misaki-kun go home?"

"No, he just went out to get stuff for a salad," Hiroki muttered, trying his best to make it look like he cared more about his book than Nowaki and his fresh-out-of-the-shower looks. Nowaki, of course, was making it hard as he seemed to have decided that he needed to go into the room and sit beside Hiroki. Hiroki snatched up some books that had been sitting open around him. "Would you watch it? I don't want my books getting wet."

"Sorry, Hiro-san," Nowaki said with a smile.

Hiroki just frowned and went back to his book. "Are you staying tonight?"

"If it's alright with you," Nowaki said. Hiroki just grunted in what he hoped was an indifferent way, and Nowaki smiled. "I do have most of my things here, anyway. And the store said the bed would be delivered tomorrow, since they have it in stock right now."

"Yeah, yeah," Hiroki said. Then he seemed to realize something. "You actually ordered a bed?"

"Yes," Nowaki said. "The sales woman did want to know why, if we're living together, I don't just sleep with my boyfriend."

Hiroki frowned at that, snapping his book shut. "You already know the answer to that, Nowaki."

"I know, Hiro-san," Nowaki said, leaning away from Hiroki as he searched in the pile for something else. He still leaned forward and caught Hiroki's lips with his, though, putting a hand to Hiroki's cheek. Hiroki didn't protest, and Nowaki was the one to break the kiss in the end. "I'd like to eventually, though."

"And waste the money you spent on the bed?" Hiroki asked, narrowing his eyes. Never mind the fact that Hiroki had been the one so insistent that Nowaki have his own room and bed.

"I suppose you're right," Nowaki said, a hint of amusement in his voice. Then he leaned forward into another kiss, and before Hiroki knew it, he was on his back, his head laying on one of the pillows at the head of the bed.

Nowaki didn't go further, though, simply curling himself around Hiroki and sighing contentedly into his neck. Hiroki slowly untensed; he'd been ready to tell Nowaki he still didn't want to do anything more than kissing, but it seemed it wasn't necessary right then.

They suddenly heard a voice in the hall, though, and Hiroki stared at the wall as if that would help him hear better.

"I'm fine, Usagi-san, you don't have to come home early." It was Misaki. He apparently had the courage to return to Hiroki's apartment, and apparently Akihiko had called him on his way back. "I know you're worried but you don't need to be. And Aikawa-san will blame me if she finds out."

"Hiro-san?" Nowaki asked as Hiroki pushed himself out of his arms.

"Hmm?"

"Was Usami-san ever that clingy towards you?"

Hiroki frowned as he straightened out his shirt and went to pick up some books. "No he wasn't."


	11. Caring

Monday afternoon, Nowaki was heading home from the kindergarten when he spotted someone he knew in the subway station. It was a boy from the Kusama orphanage, fourteen years old if Nowaki remembered correctly. He was staring intently at the route map, and he had a backpack in addition to the denim messenger back many of the orphanage children took to school.

Nowaki recognized the look on his face. This boy was almost twice how old Nowaki was when he tried to run away from Kusama Orphanage, but it was still the same type of determination. The sadness that no one wants to adopt you as you get older, combined with the frustration of being one of the older children and therefore expected to be responsible and self-sacrificing.

"Eiji-kun," Nowaki said, remembering the boy's name. The boy turned around, looking surprised. "Are you visiting a friend?"

Eiji ducked his head and moved out of the ticket line. Nowaki sat down on a bench and patted the space beside him. "Mother said you ran away once too, so you know why I'd want to!" Eiji was suddenly on the defensive, but Nowaki didn't even flinch. He'd had to put up with worse temper tantrums just that day.

He did, however, sigh and put a hand on top of Eiji's head. "I do, Eiji-kun," he said. He sounded tired, but he still had a smile on his face. "When you live with so many other children, you want attention sometimes. To be spoiled, right?"

Eiji frowned and nodded, his shaggy, brown hair falling in his eyes.

Nowaki sighed again. "Running away isn't the answer, though. Did Mother ever tell you the story?" Eiji shook his head. "I made it to a playground before my bike tires went flat. And then I met an older boy on the swing set. He gave me a piece of candy and said I should face obstacles with all I have, even though I was just a kid." Nowaki gazed forward, enjoying the memory. "And then a patrol officer showed up and he ratted me out."

"That boy sounds like a brat," Eiji said.

"It was for the best in the end, though," Nowaki pointed out. Then he had a thought. "Would you like to stay with me tonight? I'm sure Mother won't mind." Hiroki might, Nowaki had as a side thought, but he was the one who kept pointing out the apartment would be his too in a couple weeks. Surely he couldn't protest Nowaki helping out one of the children at the orphanage.

Nowaki called the orphanage and let Mother know, and with her permission, Eiji got to stay with Nowaki for one night. As they headed down the street, Eiji looked around, confused. "Wacchan, I thought you lived the other way," he said, remembering a time when he'd gone to the flower shop and Nowaki had told him where he lived.

Nowaki smiled. "I moved recently. Or rather, I will be moving and most of my things are there already, so I live there for all intents and purposes."

"Why are you moving?"

"My apartment contract runs out soon so…" Nowaki trailed off as they reached the apartment complex. "Ah, here we are."

Eiji frowned as they walked in and reached the elevator. "Are you sure it's okay? I don't want you sleeping on the couch or anything."

"Well there are two rooms but…" The ding of the elevator reaching their floor interrupted Nowaki again. "It will be fine, Eiji-kun."

Eiji didn't look like he believed Nowaki, but he kept his mouth closed as they walked down the hall and to the apartment. One of the neighbors waved to Nowaki. "Kamijou-san isn't home, is he?" she asked as she locked the door behind her.

"I believe Hiro-san is still at the university, yes," Nowaki answered. "Did you need to speak with him?"

The woman went rigid at that, as if just the idea of talking with Nowaki's roommate sent shivers down her spine. "Oh no!" she said, her voice about half an octave higher. She shoved her keys in her purse and put it over her shoulder. "Have a good day, Kusama-san!"

Eiji had a feeling that he should ask about "Hiro-san" before the man got home and he had to experience it himself, but on the other hand, if Nowaki was willing to live with someone, they certainly couldn't be all bad. The woman was probably just exaggerating.

xxx

Hiroki hadn't thought to check his phone before he left the university at almost six o'clock in the evening. If he had, he would've seen the missed call from Nowaki, and then the text from Nowaki that would have warned him about the fourteen-year-old boy he saw sitting in his kitchen when he got in. As it was, Hiroki didn't see Eiji at first, instead focusing on his shoes. Nowaki approached with a smile and a quick kiss, just long enough to touch but short enough so that Hiroki didn't have time to smack him away.

Then Hiroki saw Eiji, and after blinking a few times to make sure his eyes weren't lying to him, he said, "What cabbage patch did you get that thing from?"

"Hiro-san," Nowaki admonished. "And I told you Eiji-kun would be spending the night. Didn't you check your phone?"

"…no," Hiroki muttered. "Professor Miyagi kept trying to get me to stay there with him because the dean's brat was lurking around. As if I care." Nowaki was still standing there in front of him, so he pushed him out of the way and dropped his bag on the coffee table. Then he turned to Eiji, who'd just been sitting there at the dining room table with his homework out in front of him. "What compelled you to let him stay with us?"

"He's from the orphanage," Nowaki said, watching as Hiroki walked down the hall. "He just… needs some time away is all. I'm sure you understand, Hiro-san."

"I was an only child and any stress I had I brought on myself," Hiroki said. When Nowaki just kept looking at him, he rolled his eyes and added, "Whatever. Just keep him out of the way, would you?"

Hiroki was about to head for his bedroom, but Nowaki stopped him. "Ah, Hiro-san, I thought we'd all go to Pandasan tonight, actually."

There was a long silence in which Hiroki just stared at Nowaki. Pandasan was the restaurant they had gone to on their first 'date' and, of course, the one Hiroki had gotten so drunk at that he had forgotten the rest of that particular night. They had gone back since, though, and the service was rather good. It may, of course, been the fact that the waitresses were too busy hovering around the table to not notice when one of them needed a drink refill or when they were ready for their check.

That still didn't mean that he wanted to go out to a restaurant with the man who was essentially his live-in boyfriend and a kid he didn't even know. If Akihiko found out about that debacle he'd never hear the end of it, and that constant reminder would probably be in the form of a Junai novel if what Misaki had said the other day was correct.

Nowaki seemed to notice the conflicted look on Hiroki's face, because before saying anything else, he leaned down and caught Hiroki's lips in a kiss. Hiroki tried to pull away, but he paused when Nowaki took both of his hands, lacing their fingers together.

"I don't do well with new people," Hiroki muttered as Nowaki pressed their foreheads together. Neither of them seemed to even be aware that Eiji was still there at the dining room table, watching them.

"It's just one night, Hiro-san," Nowaki said. "It's not as if we're adopting him."

Hiroki's eyes narrowed, and he pulled out of Nowaki's grasp. "As if there's a 'we'," he muttered, but he was still blushing bright red. He went into his bedroom, not even caring that Nowaki followed him in. "So if the kid's spending the night, what exactly did you have in mind for sleeping arrangements?"

"I thought Eiji-kun would take my bed and I'd just sleep on the couch," Nowaki said, sitting down on Hiroki's bed. He pulled his legs up and folded them Indian style, watching Hiroki as he changed. If the older man was aware of the eyes staring intently at him, he didn't let on.

Of course, Nowaki had no idea what Hiroki's reaction would be to him sleeping on the couch; he'd only done it once, that time Hiroki got drunk and Nowaki ended up staying the night to make sure he didn't hurt himself. Since Hiroki had agreed to let Nowaki take the extra room, he'd moved his futon over and had mostly been using his old apartment as a way to store his things while he was moving them.

Once the bed came the previous day, though, Hiroki had made Nowaki toss out the old futon. Hiroki also didn't have any extra beds.

Hiroki finally pulled on a pair of jeans and a simple t-shirt, and Nowaki couldn't help but think that when he wasn't dressed for work, Hiroki looked younger than his twenty-eight years. His musings were cut off, though, when Hiroki said, "Would you really be comfortable sleeping on the couch?"

"…well I suppose Eiji-kun wouldn't mind sharing, but my bed is just a twin so there isn't really room for both of us…" Nowaki avoided looking at Hiroki mostly so the man wouldn't notice the hopeful glint in his eye.

"Ha, you probably couldn't fit on the couch, anyway," Hiroki said with a huff. He actually sat down beside Nowaki, ignoring the fact that Nowaki leaned over and placed his head on Hiroki's shoulder. "How tall are you, anyway?"

"About one-hundred-ninety centimeters I guess," Nowaki told Hiroki's shoulder. "Mother and Father always told me to stop growing when I was younger because they felt guilty about putting me in clothes that were too small for me. Although I suppose that they could also give the ones I outgrew to the other children."

"Why the hell are you so tall?" Hiroki asked, looking alarmed. He leaned away from Nowaki, and Nowaki frowned. Seeing an actual look of distress on Nowaki's face seemed to cool Hiroki's temper, because he leaned back into Nowaki and said, "I guess this thing is big enough for both of us."

"Really, Hiro-san?" Nowaki asked, sounding cautiously delighted.

"But just for tonight!" Hiroki said, sounding indignant.

"I know, Hiro-san," Nowaki said with a smile.

"And that doesn't give you permission to be all… touchy," Hiroki said, turning his head to hide his embarrassment. He was blushing an interesting shade of red by then. He also knew that Nowaki was completely aware that when Hiroki said 'touchy' he actually meant sex.

Nowaki wasn't willing to push that point, so he said, "I'd never intentionally make you uncomfortable, Hiro-san."

"Says the man who delivered a bouquet of sunflowers to my workplace himself," Hiroki muttered. "You barely knew me. Why the hell did you go to such lengths?"

Nowaki smiled, and without even really thinking, he started running his fingers through Hiroki's shaggy, brown hair. "There was just something about you, right from when we met in the flower shop," Nowaki murmured. "You seemed kind of… lonely, I suppose. And then your mother told me so much about you when I delivered her flowers and I thought, 'I don't think anyone should have to feel like that.'"

"What the hell did my mother tell you?" Hiroki asked. He sounded indignant, and he pushed Nowaki away.

Nowaki averted his eyes. "I don't think she really knows what's going on, Hiro-san. But she did say you've always been rather grouchy and that she used to hear you ranting in your room about someone you had a crush on in high school."

Hiroki's face went completely red. He was hoping that his mother didn't know the full truth, because if she did, then she'd know that he'd been in love with Akihiko almost since they met. When he was younger, he'd rant and rave in his room when something happened involving Akihiko, either when he tried to show his feelings and it didn't work or later when Takahashi Takahiro entered their life and any chance of Akihiko understanding the full extent of his feelings reached zero.

He only ever did that when he thought his parents weren't home, though. So much for secrecy.

That line of thought, however, made him realize something. "…I still haven't told my mother about you," he said. To his credit, he did sound a bit ashamed that he had put it off.

Nowaki just smiled. "I don't mind, Hiro-san. You can when you're ready." He patted Hiroki on the head and stood. "Anyway, Eiji-kun won't admit but he's hungry so if you're ready…"

"Yeah, yeah," Hiroki said, sounding put out as he followed Nowaki out into the kitchen. They weren't holding hands or anything, but Eiji still looked at them with interest. Hiroki wandered off to the genkan to put on his shoes.

"Wacchan?" Eiji asked as he put his things away.

"Yes?"

"…if you're both guys, how do you have sex?"

Hiroki sounded like he was being strangled over there in the genkan. "We don't."


	12. Not Moving On

There was just something different about the waitresses at Pandasan when they got there about half an hour later. Eiji was with them of course, and when the waitresses saw the boy standing between him and Nowaki, they started acting just a little bit crazier than usual. However, Hiroki had glared at them, and they had regained their composure and told the three to sit wherever they'd like.

Hiroki had made a habit of sitting across from Nowaki rather than beside him, but Eiji sat in one side of the booth and Nowaki in the other. It had come down to sitting next to Nowaki or sitting next to the kid.

In the end, it seemed that Nowaki was the lesser of two evils, because Hiroki sat down next to him. Nowaki just smiled and picked up a menu, and Hiroki was at least thankful that Nowaki didn't try to hold his hand or something.

"Thanks for doing all of this, Wacchan," Eiji said, his head ducked. The waitress hadn't yet come to take their order, so he at least had the excuse of looking down at the menu to hide his embarrassment. "I know you didn't have to."

Nowaki put down his menu and smiled at Eiji. Hiroki had to look away lest it be obvious that the smile was making him blush; Nowaki always looked so gentle, but perhaps it was the fact that he was always a bit spaced-out as well. He was a good guy, but most of the time, his eyes were unfocused like he was looking at something that Hiroki couldn't see.

"It's my pleasure, Eiji. You know I do whatever I can to help you and the rest of the children at the orphanage," Nowaki said. "And it's no trouble at all. Right, Hiro-san?"

Hiroki choked a little on the water he'd been drinking when Nowaki suddenly addressed him. Even though the apartment was technically still only his at that point in time, he hadn't had a single part in the decision to let Eiji sleep over. Oh sure, he could've protested, but at the same time, he knew he wouldn't. He couldn't say no to Nowaki.

Well, there was one instance in which he had said no to Nowaki repeatedly, but Hiroki had gone without sex for a few years now, so saying no wasn't that big a deal. It was becoming harder and harder to tell himself that he didn't want it, of course, but whenever he almost did, he just thought of the fact that he still had feelings for Akihiko and it kind of ruined it for him.

Nowaki didn't deserve to date a man who didn't put all of his feelings into it, after all. And as it was, Hiroki barely had any feelings at all, let alone enough to distribute between Akihiko and Nowaki to make it worthwhile.

Hiroki just shook his head and proceeded to order, since the waitress had gotten there while he was stuck in his own thoughts. He just ordered what he always got there and thrust the menu at the waitress like he was mad at her or something. She was too busy looking amazed at the child sitting there with them to really care, though.

"What?" Hiroki asked when she didn't go away.

The waitress held the menus up to her chest and took a deep breath, as if she needed to brace herself for what she was about to ask. "Did you two just adopt him?"

Hiroki had been about to reach for his glass, but at that he stopped. Nowaki just kept going about his business like nothing had happened, but if Hiroki had taken a drink, he probably would've done a spit take. "Excuse me?"

"Well I was just wondering since you two have never come in with anyone else before and…" The waitress's eyes wandered off to the side, as if there were something there that would get her in less trouble than this conversation was.

"There is no 'us two,'" Hiroki said with a huff, picking up his glass.

The waitress looked directly at him again, confused. "You're not together?"

"No." Hiroki narrowed his eyes behind his glass as he drank. Beside him, Nowaki didn't say anything. He just kept his head ducked, ignoring the strange look Eiji was giving them both.

Someone over in the kitchen called their waitress's name, and she quickly went back to her job. Hiroki recognized the waitress from other times they had been into Pandasan, and when she got their table, she wasn't exactly known for her diligence in relation to her wanting to just stand there and stare at them all day. But Hiroki had clearly caused an awkward scene, and she wanted to get away from it as quickly as possible.

There was a long silence between the three. Nowaki, of course, was too nice to say anything even though Hiroki could tell that he wanted to. Eiji, on the other hand, got tired of the awkward silence after a while and said, "So you two really aren't together?" Hiroki huffed but shook his head. "So like, you live together and you kiss each other and all that, but you're not together?"

Hiroki grit his teeth. Then, without warning, he pulled out his wallet, tossed a thousand yen bill on the table, and said, "Just tell them to pack up my food. I'm going home."

"Hiro-san-" Nowaki started.

Hiroki just waved him off and put his wallet away before leaving the restaurant. He had thought about making excuses about having work, because he did have work he could be doing instead of going out to eat with Nowaki and Eiji. On the other hand, he was tempted to just drink himself into oblivion. Of course, that was a rather bad idea since it was still a week night; he'd made the mistake of going into classes hungover during his first few weeks as an assistant professor, and he firmly believed that his heightened reactions to his students stupidity because of the jackhammer pounding into his left temple was why they started calling him Kamijou the Devil.

When Hiroki was about a block down the street, his cell phone started ringing. He thought that it might be Nowaki, trying to reason with him and get him to go back to the restaurant. When he looked at the caller display, however, he saw that it wasn't Nowaki.

Hiroki wasn't sure if he wanted to answer the phone when it was his mother calling. As he had pointed out to Nowaki, he still hadn't told his parents about him. Not that there was really anything to tell, as Hiroki had so helpfully pointed out.

Finally, though, he sighed and accepted the call. "Good evening, Mother."

"Ah, so you finally decided to answer me, Hiro-chan," came his mother's voice. She didn't sound mad or like she was going to curse him out, she just sounded amused. "What exactly have you been doing with yourself these past weeks? I've been trying to call since the last time we talked and you never answer."

Hiroki tried to think about what he'd been doing since he'd hung up on his mother that day he'd been leaving the university, but all he could really think of was the fact that he'd been spending so much time with Nowaki. His mother sometimes exaggerated when talking about her efforts to get into contact with him, but Hiroki betted that if he looked into his call history, he'd find a lot of missed calls from his mother's number.

Finally he sighed and said, "I've been busy, Mother. The semester started so I've had classes to teach and plan. Also, you know how much research I have to do." His mind briefly went to that project he'd been doing involving him comparing the English translations of Akihiko's novels to the original Japanese. He hadn't picked that up once since Nowaki unofficially moved in. He didn't even know where half of his Usami Akihiko novels were, although he had a feeling that Nowaki had picked them up and put them away one night when he was alone in the apartment.

"You don't have to make excuses, Hiroki," his mother said, and he flinched at the use of his full name. She almost always called him Hiro-chan; it was only when she was in an especially cross mood with him that she resorted to "Hiroki." When Hiroki was in America, he'd heard kids referred to in cross voices with three names; Hiroki figured that if Japan traditionally gave their children middle names, his mother would use his along with his full name just to really let him know shit was going down.

"They aren't excuses, Mother," Hiroki said, glancing around. Pandasan wasn't that far from his apartment building, so he could see it in the distance. When he turned, all it did was confirm that neither Nowaki nor Eiji had come after him. He frowned. If he hurried, he could get a change of clothes from the apartment and just go to his and Miyagi's office for the night. It'd probably be better for his productivity than having Nowaki there trying to cuddle up to him and Eiji around asking weird questions. "…anyway, I have to go into the university. Unless there was something urgent, do you think you could call back tomorrow?"

His mother sighed. "Oh fine, Hiro-chan. Just don't work too hard or you'll get sick, okay?"

He was twenty-eight; he didn't need his mother telling him to be careful about getting sick. He still agreed, though, simply because he didn't feel like it was worth it, at that point, to fight his mother.

Hiroki was able to get in and out of the apartment before Nowaki and Eiji got back, but when he got to the university, he was disconcerted to see the light was on in the office. Of all the nights for Miyagi to actually be working late.

The door was locked, however, and Hiroki frowned at it. It wasn't like there were people who went around the university at night, finding rooms where professors lurked and trying to mug them or something, so he didn't see why Miyagi would need the door locked while he was still in there. He was about to knock when he heard a voice.

"I don't care what my father thinks!" Hiroki was quick enough to recognize it as Shinobu. "I love you Miyagi! I would've thought that would be enough." He was sounding a little choked up, and that combined with what he was saying was making Hiroki feel embarrassed just listening to it.

"You're just a kid. Hell I'm twice your age and I probably couldn't tell you what love is." And that was Miyagi.

There was an odd sound that Hiroki could've sworn was crying, and that was about when he decided he should knock on the door and let them know that someone had been listening to their rather dramatic conversation.

"Shit," Miyagi hissed, probably thinking it was the dean of literature. There was some shuffling before he came to the door, but it took him a few seconds to open it even after the lock clicked. When he saw it was Hiroki, however, he visibly relaxed. "Ah, Kamijou-sensei. What are you doing here? I thought you went home for the night."

Hiroki narrowed his eyes. "Too many distractions. I thought I'd come here to do some work, if you and that squirrely little boyfriend of yours are done with your lovers spat."

Miyagi frowned but nodded. Then he turned into the office and said, "Come on, Shinobu. I'll bring you home."

"I don't want to go home," Shinobu muttered, but when he saw Hiroki was there, he was more than willing to comply.

With them gone, Hiroki thought he would open up his laptop and get to work. However, he ended up kicking off his shoes, tossing his bag and coat aside, and just laying on the couch. He was too tired for this shit.


	13. Emotional

Hiroki woke up the next morning to Miyagi hanging over him, looking concerned. He scowled and sat up, pushing Miyagi out of his face. "Is the concept of personal space entirely foreign to you?" he asked.

Miyagi didn't protest that part, at least. "Just wondering if you were still alive, Kamijou." He sat down at his desk and started his computer. "Did you not go home last night?"

When Hiroki looked at the round, analog clock on the wall, he saw that it was nearly ten o'clock. He had a class at eleven. This fact made him scowl, and instead of answering Miyagi, he simply grabbed his overnight bag and headed for the nearest bathroom to change. He probably needed a shower, but the only public showers on campus were at the recreation center, and Hiroki didn't have time to go all the way there.

The bathroom closest to his office was tiny, with a single sink, one urinal, and one stall. There weren't any students there, and Hiroki ended up locking himself in the stall and started changing out of his street clothes.

Hiroki sighed and leaned against the stall door, his dress shirt still open. He felt like shit, and not just because he had slept on that raggedy old couch all night. Despite that he had slept for twelve hours (he did wake up at one point and got some work done) he was exhausted. If not physically, then emotionally. He couldn't remember the last time he wanted to just sit down and let the world flow around him, sucking out his insecurities.

He had his phone with him, and in a moment of weakness, he considered calling Nowaki. Then he scoffed and folded his arms over his partially exposed chest. He didn't need Nowaki, and anyway, he'd be at work and wouldn't be able to answer even if Hiroki did call.

"Kamijou?"

Hiroki hadn't heard anyone enter the bathroom, but it seemed Miyagi was now right outside the stall.

"What?" Hiroki started buttoning up his shirt, ignoring the jiggling of the lock as Miyagi tried to open the door. "I'm changing, Professor. I have no desire for you to see me half-naked."

"Aw, Kamijou, I'm sure I'd love to see your body," Miyagi said in a singsong voice. Hiroki scowled and opened the door with his shirt only halfway buttoned. Miyagi took a step back, looking surprised. "Have you been crying?"  
Hiroki's eyes went wide, but when he pushed past Miyagi and looked in the mirror over the sink, he saw it was true. His eyes were somewhat red and shiny with unfallen tears, and he could just see where some had fallen down his cheeks. His nose was starting to run as well, and he didn't protest when Miyagi gave him a handkerchief. "I'm pathetic."

"Kamijou…" Miyagi sighed. He ended up wrapping an arm around his shoulders, and Hiroki closed his eyes. The tobacco smell from Miyagi's chain smoking habit shouldn't have been comforting, but it was. Akihiko had been smoking for years and it was a smell Hiroki always associated with his old friend. Hiroki ended up burying his nose in Miyagi's shirt, and the older man looked slightly uncomfortable. "Uh, if you're having trouble I'm willing to listen Kamijou but this is a bit much…"

It was then that Hiroki realized what he was doing, and he scowled and pushed Miyagi away. "Whatever. I'll wash this and give it back to you later." He waved the handkerchief in Miyagi's face before sticking it in his pocket. When Miyagi didn't leave, Hiroki waved towards the door. "Could you give me a minute? I still need to clean up for my class in less than an hour."

Miyagi sighed again but obliged, looking like he wanted to say more. Hiroki was very obviously not up for discussion as far as this went, though, so he let the door swing shut behind him.

Hiroki was just glad it was Friday. It meant that he could stay at home if he wanted to even if he had work to do, because he didn't have any classes or special sessions on the weekends. He got out of his last class at five o'clock, and he'd probably just pick up something to eat and head home. Maybe even stock up for the entire weekend so he wouldn't have to go out.

What about Nowaki, though? Almost all of his things were at the apartment so there wouldn't be much use going back to his old one, even though the contract didn't technically run out for a little over a week. On the other hand, Hiroki wasn't sure if he wanted to see him after he had stormed out of Pandasan and ended up abandoning him and Eiji for the night.

No matter how kind Nowaki was, and how likely it was that he'd forgive Hiroki for his tantrum, he just didn't feel like he could deal with him right then. Now that his feelings had cooled off, what he mostly felt was shame.

Hiroki huffed and went back to the mirror so he could comb through his hair and at least make it look presentable. He could worry about Nowaki later; he still had classes and work to do that day, and worrying about where he stood with the man wasn't going to help anything. If it was meant to work out, it would.

xxx

Hiroki didn't get a call from Nowaki all day, and when he got out of the university a little past five, the man wasn't waiting for him like he had started doing when Hiroki worked later than him. Hiroki didn't actually remember Nowaki's schedule for the flower shop, though, so for all he knew, he could've had a shift right after he was done at the kindergarten and wasn't even home himself yet.

He went about his day as if it weren't a big deal, but as he bought food to last them for at least the weekend, he couldn't help but feel a bit of apprehension. The supermarket was more crowded than usual, and it all seemed to be college-aged students buying alcohol and other such things so they could have parties. If any of them were from M and recognized Hiroki, Hiroki himself didn't pay attention as he went through the gestures of picking out food mechanically.

It was only, of course, when he got to the apartment building and to his apartment to find the door still locked that he realized he had been hoping Nowaki would be there. Nowaki kept a few pairs of shoes in the genkan, one set of sneakers for casual wear, and two pairs of dress shoes that he alternated between for the kindergarten and the flower shop. His coat was gone as well, and Hiroki found himself sitting down where the floor rose up out of the genkan and just staring at the cloth shopping bag he'd bought rather than use more plastic ones.

Logically, Hiroki thought, Nowaki couldn't be gone for good. There were still traces of him around the apartment, like the children's books Nowaki had been going through the other day. Those were Hiroki's; he could never bring himself to get rid of anything, and Nowaki had thought it was 'cute' that he still had books dating back to when he was the age of the children Nowaki taught. They were stacked neatly on the table alongside the academic journals he had also been reading. There were only one or two, and Hiroki had briefly noticed the previous day that they were the ones he'd managed to get articles published in during his grad career.

And of course when he finally got off the floor and looked in Nowaki's room, the bed was still there and his dresser was still full of clothes and toiletries.

And yet, as he kept going around the apartment, going through his evening rituals of getting out of his work clothes and getting his dinner ready, he couldn't help but feel like he'd been punched in the gut. That logical part of him spoke up again to point out that it was his fault for pushing Nowaki away, but Hiroki pushed it away, reasoning that how was he supposed to know Nowaki would just up and leave over something like that? He knew they weren't involved as Eiji and that waitress seemed to think, so Hiroki pointing it out shouldn't have caused him to just completely drop out of his life.

In the end, Hiroki ended up ordering delivery and falling over onto his couch. He even turned the TV on, simply because it was just too damned quiet without Nowaki there. Nowaki actually wasn't that chatty, so he had no idea why it made a difference, but it did.

xxx

By the time Sunday rolled around, Hiroki was still alone in his apartment. Nowaki hadn't come back once, but rather than causing Hiroki to get angry like one might think it would, Hiroki just descended more and more into emotional drainage. He actually went back to the project he'd started of comparing Akihiko's original Japanese-language novels to their English translation, and without Nowaki around to clean up or at least put some semblance of order to all the things Hiroki left in the living room, the entire place started looking more and more like his and Miyagi's office.

When he woke up Sunday morning, though, he found that he just didn't have the energy to concentrate on the project, and he ended up putting a bookmark in the one he'd been going through and just tossing it back on the coffee table. He'd had a few calls over the weekend; Miyagi had called Saturday morning sounding concerned since Hiroki usually texted or emailed him over the weekend to remind him of exactly what he was supposed to be working on. He did this simply so he wouldn't have any accountability for when Miyagi inevitably slacked on his work and had to rush to get it done Monday morning.

Akihiko had called too, saying he had a new novel done and that he wanted Hiroki to come over to his apartment and read over it for him before he handed the first draft into Aikawa. That particular call, however, he'd let go straight to voicemail as soon as he saw who it was, and he hadn't returned the call since. He was honestly surprised that Akihiko hadn't called again or attempted to track him down. He didn't like it when people didn't listen to him.

Hiroki spent the next few minutes just wandering around his apartment, trying to figure out what to do. Even though he had bought groceries, he hadn't actually cooked anything for himself once since he got home Friday evening. He had about the same amount of motivation to make his breakfast then, and with a sigh, he dressed and trudged out of his apartment for the first time since discovering Nowaki hadn't come back.

The crisp, spring air made him nervous, and he squinted against the light of the sun since he'd had the shades closed in his apartment. No one seemed to notice the pale man acting like he hadn't seen the sun in years, though, and so instead of having to get mad at anyone, he simply started walking. He didn't really have anywhere in mind, but though he knew Pandasan served breakfast as well, he didn't want to go there. Knowing his luck, the waitress who'd taken their orders Thursday night would be working, and then she'd remember him and probably ask where he had gone then.

Hiroki wasn't really prepared to answer that question.

Eventually he wandered into a more commercial part of Bunkyo. He wasn't paying attention, so when someone called out, "Kamijou-san!" he was surprised enough to stop and look.

It was Eiji. He was alone, at least, and he looked rather apprehensive to approach him. Hiroki sniffed and continued walking, and eventually, Eiji seemed to decide that he wanted to catch up to him.

"Why isn't Wacchan with you?" Eiji asked, falling into step with him.

Hiroki sniffed again. "He's still gone."

"Still?" Eiji sounded confused. "He left?"

Hiroki narrowed his eyes at Eiji, and for the first time since Thursday afternoon, he felt annoyance rather than the emotional drainage he'd been suffering. "He hasn't been home since Friday. Didn't he tell you anything?"

"Um, no," Eiji said, ducking his head and, to his credit, looking ashamed that he didn't know about such a thing. "He brought me to school in the morning and never said anything else…"

Hiroki's eye twitched, and he could feel the familiar bubbling of rage he usually felt. So Nowaki just up and disappeared, not even telling Eiji about it? Where the hell did he get off anyway, doing such a thing and leaving Hiroki in that state?

Eiji looked terrified so he said, "It was good seeing you again Kamijou-san, but I have to go now!" and he was down the sidewalk like one of Hiroki's well-trained students.

With Eiji gone, Hiroki honestly wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with the sudden burst of emotion he was experiencing. He still had no idea where Nowaki was or how to contact him. He briefly considered going to the flower shop and seeing if he was working, but he ruled that idea out. As if he would cause such a scene in public twice.

In the end, Hiroki didn't know what to do. He'd never been in a position like this. If he had been in his apartment, he might have kicked something, knocked something over, yelled and then cried and then realized he was unable to tell the difference between the two.

As it was, however, he just continued down the sidewalk, hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket and head ducked as he tried to sink into anonymity in the crowd.


	14. Realization

Hiroki just wandered around for most of the day even though he knew he should be home, getting work done. He had plenty of research to do and plenty of homework to look through and grade, but he just couldn't bring himself to return to his apartment. Without Nowaki there, he felt a strange pain in his chest. That may have also been the fact that he'd eaten so much food with such a high sodium content over the weekend in place of the usual home cooking that Nowaki had been providing even before he moved in.

Eventually, though, he found that he had to go back to his apartment. It was getting late and if he didn't get a proper night's rest, he was bound to look like hell when he got into the university on Monday. He had, of course, looked like hell on Friday, and he wasn't sure if he could deal with his students giving him odd looks again. To their credit they had at least seemed concerned- but that was because he was milder than usual, and he hadn't even thrown anything all during class. Not for a lack of chance, though.

By the time he realized he should get home, though, he'd wandered pretty far away from his apartment. If he just walked, he wouldn't have gotten there in any kind of reasonable time, so he headed for the train. It was about seven at night and it was crowded, and Hiroki couldn't help but feel claustrophobic as he squished into the train with dozens of other people. If he had the room, he actually would've covered his nose; some of the people near him reeked, and offending someone was the last thing he cared about right then. Or at any time, really.

Even if there was anyone he recognized there in the train with him, he probably wouldn't have seen them since he was so surrounded. He also didn't care. However, there was someone there that knew him, and when that person said, "Kamijou-san?" Hiroki couldn't help but look up.

Pushing through the crowd was a man Hiroki somewhat recognized. Normally someone he hadn't seen in six years wouldn't have even gotten a second glance, but the man named Shinoda wasn't exactly easy to forget, at least for Hiroki. He had caused him so much trouble when he was still in college, making him think that they had slept together and telling him that they should be together because he understood Hiroki so well.

And, it seemed, Shinoda hadn't exactly forgotten Hiroki, either. They hadn't seen each other since Hiroki had kicked him out of his old apartment, but, Hiroki supposed, he hadn't exactly changed that much since college as far as his looks went. Anyone who knew him would probably say that his personality had suffered, but he still had the same hairstyle, and, even Hiroki would admit, the same default expression of a scowl that let passerby know that he didn't much approve of the world.

"…Shinoda-san," Hiroki said, bowing his head. Shinoda wasn't having that, though; he'd managed to push his way through the packed train and took Hiroki's handle. Hiroki frowned as Shinoda's hand closed over his. "Shinoda-san, I don't have time to mess around. I have to get home."

"Oh really," Shinoda said, sounding interested. His eyebrows were arched, and he didn't look like he quite believed him. "Without several bags full of books?"

"Not today," he said, his mind flashing back to the night Shinoda had caught him on the train and insisted on helping him carry the several bags of books Hiroki had bought back to his apartment. He was still on the subway, so of course his worries were unfounded, but he almost expected to see Akihiko around there somewhere. He'd randomly appeared alongside Takahiro as Hiroki and Shinoda were going to his apartment, and Shinoda had found it all rather amusing while Hiroki had just wanted to strangle someone.

There was silence between the two, but the people around them made noise- talking to each other, music blasting through headphones because the volume was up too high, people talking on cell phone. Hiroki was starting to regret that he was too lazy to walk all the way back to his apartment, or at least that he hadn't gotten a taxi. But the subway was cheaper and made him exert less energy, and he needed all the energy he could get at that point.

"So what exactly have you been doing with your life, Kamijou-san?" Shinoda asked with a smile. He still had his hand planted firmly on Hiroki's, and if he noticed that Hiroki was uncomfortable, he didn't seem to care. "It's been so many years."

"Like you care," Hiroki said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh sure I do!" Shinoda said, grinning. "A lot's happened with me. I got married and divorced."

"I bet your wife couldn't stand you," Hiroki muttered, but it was clear Shinoda had heard him. "Does that mean you're straight?"

Shinoda considered this as the subway continued along. Colorful graffiti could be seen on the tunnel outside the windows. "I like to think that I just take what I like," he finally answered. "You seem to have been the only exception."

"I'm not some kind of prize to be won," Hiroki said, narrowing his eyes. "And for your information, I'm an assistant professor of literature at M University now."

"Ooh, a learned man. I like that." Shinoda just kept grinning, and Hiroki felt the need to slap that stupid grin right off his face. One hand was held down, though, and he was so squished in by then since they'd stopped at a station to pick up more people that he probably wouldn't have been able to move the other arm without groping about three people. "We never really got to finish, you know."

"I was finished with you the minute I told you to fuck off," Hiroki said, and he found himself staring at the high school girl next to them who was decked out completely in ganguro style rather than at Shinoda. She didn't even seem to notice them because she was too busy texting on her phone.

"Does that mean you actually have someone?" Shinoda asked, sounding amused.

Hiroki's eye twitched, and he was almost tempted to say that, yes, he had someone in his life now. But then he stopped. Did he really? Nowaki hadn't come back to the apartment since Friday, and hadn't Hiroki just spent an entire day wandering around Bunkyo because he felt like going back to his apartment would be too painful?

"No I don't," Hiroki muttered. He moved his eyes from the ganguro girl to the floor, or rather, Shinoda's feet. He felt his chin lifted up, though, and before he could do anything about it, Shinoda was kissing him. His heartbeat quickened, but not because of the kiss, necessarily; he was terrified that someone around would notice what was happening.

When he opened his eyes, though, he found that he was surrounded by people who didn't seem to care that he was having a rather interesting breakdown right beside them. Shinoda was the one who broke off the kiss, and it was rather obvious what he wanted. "Your place or mine?" Shinoda asked.

Hiroki bowed his head. "Mine, I guess."

xxx

It seemed like it was going to be that easy at first. Hiroki brought Shinoda to his apartment and they were at it before they had even left the genkan. Hiroki was even into at first, since it had been so long since he'd had sex with another man that he didn't necessarily care that it was Shinoda at that point.

There were moments here and there where he had more clarity than he would've liked, though. For instance, Shinoda's touch wasn't nearly as warm as Nowaki's on his skin. Shinoda's kisses weren't nearly as sweet and gentle as Nowaki's either. He was sure these comparisons would stop once they actually got to sex, though, considering he and Nowaki had never gotten that far.

Of course, since neither of them were paying attention, they ended up tripping on some books Hiroki had left out, and Hiroki cursed and pulled away from their kiss.

"Goddamit. Nowaki usually cleans up…" Hiroki muttered before he could realize what he was doing. When he saw the puzzled look on Shinoda's face, Hiroki scowled at himself and attempted to get them going to the bedroom.

"Who's Nowaki?" Shinoda asked instead, not letting Hiroki continue their kiss. He even ignored Hiroki's attempts at tugging at his shirt. Instead, he looked all around, actually taking in Hiroki's apartment for the first time. It was a mess, but here and there were signs that someone was living there with Hiroki. For instance: the children's books on the coffee table. "…ah, I think I understand, Kamijou-san."

"Wh-what?" Hiroki asked, finally removing his arms from around Shinoda's neck and looking indignant.

"Your boyfriend's away and you're feeling lonely," Shinoda said with a smirk. When Hiroki looked indignant again, the smirk just grew more devilish. "I hit the nail on the head, right?"

"No!" Hiroki said, and out of spite, he grabbed up the children's books and went to put them away so they wouldn't cause any more distractions in his conquest. He put them in Nowaki's room simply because he had been the one reading them, and Shinoda followed him there.

Shinoda seemed amused as he looked all around. The bed was perfectly made, with the pillow leaning against the headboard. Hiroki had relinquished one of his smaller bookshelves for Nowaki's use, and it was about halfway full of Nowaki's own texts as well as books of Hiroki's he'd been looking through. After Hiroki dropped the children's books on Nowaki's bed, he looked up and noticed that Shinoda was looking all around, as if trying to figure out what kind of man slept in this room.

"What?" Hiroki asked, but he had a feeling that he wasn't going to be getting sex that night. When Shinoda didn't answer, Hiroki's eyes fell to the floor and he added, "Do you want some tea?"

"That would be lovely, Kamijou-san."

They ended up sitting there at Hiroki's counter as the water boiled, Shinoda looking amused and Hiroki just looking ashamed. "He's not my boyfriend, by the way," Hiroki muttered, as if that fact were entirely relevant at this point. "In fact, he's disappeared precisely because I pointed that out."

"So you let the man move in with you before you were even in a relationship? I had no idea you moved so fast, Kamijou-san." He ran a hand through his hair, ignoring the icy glare directed at him. "But you care about him?"

"Of course I care about him!" Hiroki said, indignant. When Shinoda just looked at him amusedly, he ducked his head and clutched the mug he'd gotten out for tea when it was ready. "I'm just not ready for that kind of relationship. I'm sure you know that fact about me."

"Hmm, after six years I would've thought you had gotten over your little hang-ups." He sounded amused, though. "So does that mean you're over Usami-san?"

And that's really when it hit him. He'd spent the entire weekend obsessing over Nowaki, about why he left and whether he'd come back and just feeling absolutely shitty, to the point where he ignored everything else in his life, including Akihiko. He didn't even regret when he tossed aside the translation project involving Akihiko's novels. He'd gone as far as to ignore Akihiko's call about editing his novel, which he never would've done in the past if he didn't have something else to occupy his time.

The tea kettle started whistling, but Hiroki ignored it in favor of bowing his head again and saying, "Yeah, I guess I am."

There was a long silence, punctuated only by the high-pitched whistle coming from the kettle. Finally, seeing that Hiroki wasn't going to do anything about it, Shinoda got up and took the tea kettle off the stove. "And you want this Nowaki guy now?"

Hiroki let out a harsh laugh. "Yes, and like everything else in my life, I've managed to screw that up, too." He hadn't even told Shinoda where he kept the tea bags, but he still managed to find them and dip a green tea one into Hiroki's mug of steaming hot water. "I probably deserve exactly what I get though."

"Everyone deserves happiness, Kamijou-san," Shinoda said, bringing his own mug to his lips. "For me it's my daughter. For you, it could very well be this man. But you won't know until you try, right?"

Hiroki nodded, staring into his mug as the tea bag slowly seeped through. Then he looked up in alarm. "You have a daughter?"

"The only good thing that came out of that marriage," Shinoda said with a laugh. He patted Hiroki's head in an affectionate way. "Maybe I can introduce you two some time."

"No thanks." Hiroki blew at the top of his mug to cool his tea down. "Besides, I hate children."

Shinoda let out a hearty laugh. "Oh but I'm sure they love you."

"Just drink your tea, you jackass."


	15. More Flowers

Nowaki hadn't had a very good weekend. Friday morning he'd called one of his friends and asked if he could stay for a few days, and so he'd ended up crashing on the couch. It was one of Nowaki's friends from college, and actually one of the men he'd gone to America with. They'd stayed at each other's apartments here and there over the years, but his friend had gotten married after they graduated and it pretty died out after that.

Nowaki's friend had, of course, been curious as to why he needed a place to stay. Nowaki hadn't answered the entire time, but of course he was still more than welcome. He had even watched his friend's two-year-old daughter while his friend and his wife went out to dinner. They had been extremely thankful, since they apparently hadn't had a day to themselves since the baby came along.

He'd been more than happy to do it, of course, and he almost regretted packing up what clothes he had taken with him for the weekend. Nowaki knew that he was more than welcome to stay there longer if he wanted, but he couldn't do it. Hiroki probably would have cooled down by then, and anyway, most of his things were still there at the apartment. He planned to go back, and if Hiroki was willing to let him keep staying there, then it was fine. And if he wasn't, well then, at least he had gone back so he could get his possessions.

It was currently lunch time and recess for the children, so Nowaki had some time on his own. He'd left his friend's apartment fairly early and hadn't used their kitchen to make himself a lunch, so all he had was a box lunch from a convenience store. It didn't taste nearly as good as a home-cooked meal, but perhaps it was just that he was used to that by now. He'd cook for himself even before he moved-in with Hiroki simply because it was cheaper.

Nowaki sighed as he leaned back in his chair. He was in the teacher's room eating. It was a cramped place not because it was a small room, but because it had so many things jammed in there that the teachers thought they needed: books, tables, chairs, vending machines, two refrigerators for some reason, and a number of bags left behind by the teachers who were outside watching the children play. Normally Nowaki would have been out there with them, but he just didn't feel like it that day.

The children had, of course, noticed that something was off with their teacher. When they had asked what, Nowaki just answered that he may be getting a cold or something. The children had almost told another teacher so he would go home, but going home would mean he'd have to go to Hiroki's apartment that much earlier.

It wasn't that he didn't want to. He loved Hiroki, after all, and he loved spending time with him. On the other hand, he had been gone for an entire weekend, and now that he actually had time to think about his actions, he wasn't sure if that time would have made Hiroki cool down, or if it would just make Hiroki madder at him and not willing to accept any kind of apology.

Not all relationships worked out, Nowaki supposed as he put his chopsticks in the empty container. Not that Nowaki had had much experience with them in the past; he'd always been too caught-up in something to have time for intimate relationships, whether it was working after he dropped out of school or studying once he got to college. He didn't need to have excellent grades to keep his funding, but he felt like since the men who sponsored the orphanage were spending so much money on something that didn't really affect them, the least he could do was make the most out of it.

He couldn't say he didn't expect to fall for Kamijou Hiroki, because he'd been taken almost as soon as the man walked into the flower shop. There was just something so inherently sad about him that Nowaki couldn't help but want to make this man feel better even before he knew his name. But, it seemed, that wasn't what Hiroki wanted, and Nowaki just wanted him to be happy, even if that didn't involve him.

"Kusama-sensei?" One of the other teachers poked her head into the room, and she appeared to have something in her arms. When she actually stepped in the room, it seemed to be a bouquet of pink roses.

Nowaki smiled. "Did your boyfriend send you those, Kichida-sensei?" he asked, remembering that his particular woman had been talking constantly about the fact that she was in her first relationship in a year. She had been so happy, and Nowaki couldn't help but feel happy for her.

Kichida ducked her head and looked a bit amused. "Actually, these were delivered for you…"

Nowkai blinked rapidly, not sure he had heard her right. For him? Why would he be getting flowers at all, let alone flowers at the kindergarten? His heart skipped a beat as he entertained the possibility that perhaps Hiroki had sent them, but then he shook his head. Hiroki hadn't even tried to call him during the weekend, so he obviously hadn't cared that he was gone.

"Thank you, Kichida-sensei," Nowaki said, taking the roses from her and bowing. Kichida giggled a bit and went on her way, leaving Nowaki alone.

The first thing Nowaki did with the bouquet was twirl it around, looking for a card. He found one, and he recognized the seal on it as the logo from the flower shop he worked at. He couldn't help but smile for some reason, even though it wasn't all that funny. When he tugged the card free, though, his heart skipped another beat as he recognized the kanji characters on it, along with the simple word 'Sorry.'

xxx

Hiroki's eyebrow twitched in annoyance. Akihiko had showed up earlier and despite Hiroki's best efforts, his friend just wouldn't vacate his office. He had said something about how Misaki had complained about how quiet he was in class and that he suspected Hiroki had something especially evil planned, but they hadn't really talked since then. Akihiko had mostly laid on the couch, reading various books and looking like he could have stayed there forever.

"Akihiko, I have a class in fifteen minutes and you're not going to be here when I get back," Hiroki said, narrowing his eyes as he packed his bag. He had another class that day, but he had cancelled it. He wasn't sure he could handle a full day of his students looking at him like they thought he might have been possessed by a ghost. A very mild ghost.

Akihiko just looked amused as he put away the book he had been reading and put his feet down on the floor. "You never did tell me what's wrong. And don't say nothing. Even your students noticed."

Hiroki just stared at his friend as he put the last of his papers in his bag. It had been a while since Akihiko had really seemed like he cared when something was wrong with him, and now, it didn't seem to matter much to him, either. He was only asking because Misaki had complained about it. He probably only cared because Hiroki's mental state directly affected Misaki's grade in his class, at least in Akihiko's mind, and failing would mean trouble and probably less time spent together because Misaki would have to make up for it.

Finally, Hiroki hunched his shoulders. "You know what's wrong with me?" Akihiko rose his eyebrows, looking amused. "I haven't seen Nowaki since Thursday because I was stupid enough to think I still loved you." He ducked his head and made his way out of the office before Akihiko could react. He passed Miyagi in the hall on the way to his lecture hall, but he didn't even look at the man despite Miyagi's attempts to get his attention.

"I don't have time for your inane efforts at flirting with me, professor," Hiroki said, not even trying to be polite.

"Well no, Kamijou-" Miyagi started to say, but when he saw that Hiroki wasn't going to pay attention, he just shrugged and went back to his office. Clearly what he had to tell Hiroki wasn't so important that it couldn't wait until after his class.

Hiroki's class started about the same as always, but the students by then had figured out that something was wrong with him and were watching him the entire time. Normally he would have liked that his students were actually putting away their cell phones and looking where they should, but he doubted they were actually paying attention to the lesson so much as trying to figure out what was going on with him.

About fifteen minutes into the period, there came a knock at the door. Hiroki rolled his eyes when he saw that it was Miyagi. Obviously whatever he had to say couldn't wait until after the class. Hiroki decided to just ignore it, and he was about to go back to his lesson, but Miyagi just kept knocking. Finally, Hiroki threw the notebook with his lesson plan down on the floor and stomped over to the door. If he'd been looking over to his students, he would have seen that they had looks of relief on their faces. Apparently it was more comforting when he was angry than when he was docile.

"What," Hiroki said, flinging the door open and nearly making it collide with Miyagi's face.

Miyagi didn't look like he much minded that his face had almost gotten rearranged, though. "There's someone here to see you, Kamijou."

"And that can't wait until after I've finished my class?" Hiroki asked, narrowing his eyes. He looked especially fierce with his glasses, he'd been told in the past, but Miyagi didn't seem to mind. Then again, Miyagi hardly ever seemed to see Hiroki as scary. "Just tell whoever it is to wait. If they care enough they'll still be there in an hour."

"Kamijou, it's your boyfriend."

Hiroki had been about to close the door again, but he stopped at that and started blinking rapidly. "It's who?"

"Kusama, was his name?" Miyagi considered this as he looked up at the ceiling. "Anyway he's at our office with a big bouquet of flowers and said he needed to see you."

There was a general murmur in the classroom, so the students had clearly heard what Miyagi said. Hiroki narrowed his eyes again and stepped forward, closing the door behind him. He had to resist the urge to start crying, for some reason, and he let Miyagi lead him to their office.

Sure enough, Nowaki was sitting there outside it, the bouquet of pink roses sitting in his lap. When he looked up and saw Hiroki approaching, a smile broke across his face, and he quickly jumped to his feet and covered the last few feet of distance between them.

"Hiro-san!" he said. He ignored the amused-looking Miyagi, but he couldn't ignore the fist that came down on his head. "Ow! That hurt." He frowned, rubbing the spot Hiroki had just hit him.

"You idiot," Hiroki said, folding his arms. "Where the hell have you been?"

Nowaki blinked twice before saying, "I was staying with one of my friends, Hiro-san. You just seemed upset so I thought…" He noticed that his explanation wasn't satisfying Hiroki in the least. "…I'm sorry, Hiro-san."

Hiroki grit his teeth and looked away. "You could have tried talking to me first!" he said, his voice elevating. Luckily there weren't any students going through the hall at that time, so they weren't really causing a scene. On the other hand, Akihiko apparently hadn't left the office and was just now coming out of it since he heard Hiroki's voice. "Everyone seems to think they know what's best for me! You, my mother, Akihiko, even that idiot Professor Miyagi!"

"Hey!" Miyagi said from the office, but everyone ignored him.

Hiroki expected Nowaki to get mad at that, but he didn't seem to mind the verbal assaults that were being thrown at him, so he continued. "Just because I didn't want to be in a relationship with you didn't mean I wanted you to disappear! Do you have any idea how hard it was for me, thinking you were just… gone?" He could feel the tears falling this time, and he reached up a hand to wipe them away, pushing his glasses aside to do so. He opened his eyes in surprise when Nowaki reached forward and took off his glasses.

"Hiro-san…" Nowaki said, leaning down. He wiped away some of the tears before their lips met in a kiss, and he was glad when Hiroki didn't protest. It didn't last long, though, and Nowaki laid his forehead against Hiroki's. "I'm sorry."

There was about a minute of silence between them, in which all either of them were aware of was the other. That was how long it took Hiroki to realize that his students down the hall were watching them, as well as Miyagi and Akihiko over in the office.

Predictably, his face warped into a scowl.

"Shouldn't you be teaching right now?" he asked, pushing Nowaki away. When Nowaki looked sheepish, Hiroki added, "I have a class right now, anyway. So just… go back to work. We can talk more later, at home."

Nowaki lit up at that, but before he could hug Hiroki or kiss him again, Hiroki was down the hall.

All the students scrambled away from the doorway, but they were still watching Hiroki as he went back up to the chalkboard. He'd taken his glasses back from Nowaki, and he put them on and said, "What?"

Every single student ducked their head.


	16. Making Things Right

Nowaki was back to the apartment before Hiroki was. In fact, he had what he estimated to be a couple hours before he'd be seeing Hiroki again, so he had time to contemplate just what he was going to say. He knew that Hiroki would probably freak out on him as soon as he got home. If he was lucky, he'd get things thrown at him and he'd be able to duck and move out of the way. If Hiroki decided he needed to hit Nowaki directly, he wasn't sure he'd get out of the way.

Hiroki had been clearly hurt when Nowaki just disappeared for a few days. Nowaki had left thinking it was the best thing, that because Hiroki didn't show up again Thursday night, he needed some time alone. It was clear that he didn't know Hiroki as well as he thought he did, though. He was glad he was able to make the progress when he went to the university, but he was also afraid that once Hiroki had the time to cool down his feelings and really think about the situation, he'd decide that he didn't actually want Nowaki in his life anymore. Who wanted a man who would just up and abandon you without telling you, after all?

The flowers did give him hope, though. For a while, Nowaki just sat on one of the couches, holding the bouquet of pink roses in his arms and looked down at them, like they were the solid evidence of Hiroki's feelings. They were, in a way, because Nowaki may not have known Hiroki as well as he thought he did, but he knew that he had a hard time expressing his feelings in words. Gestures like this were probably much easier for him.

Eventually, Nowaki stood up and started searching the cabinets for a vase he could put them in. He wanted to be able to keep these flowers for as long as possible, and he'd need to put them in water if they stood a chance of surviving. Just as he was putting them down on the piano, which he'd never seen Hiroki use in the time they'd, for all intents and purposes, lived together, he heard the front door open.

"I'm home," Hiroki muttered, sounding almost afraid that there wouldn't be anyone there to answer his greeting.

A grin broke over Nowaki's face, and he immediately went over to the genkan and watched as Hiroki slipped off his dress shoes. The man looked kind of haggard, and Nowaki wished he had thought to start dinner so Hiroki wouldn't have to wait too long for it once he got home. It was almost five o'clock. Though, to tell the truth, Nowaki had no idea what Hiroki still had in his cupboards. "Welcome back, Hiro-san."

There was a long moment of silence between them, in which their eyes locked and Hiroki's expression was unreadable, or perhaps had so much behind it that Nowaki really couldn't tell which one was going to win. Nowaki was ready to step away and leave Hiroki some time to decide what he was going to do. Then Hiroki grabbed his arm and pulled him forward into a kiss.

Nowaki's eyes went wide, and eventually he ended up sitting down, with Hiroki sitting on his lap as they kept kissing. Finally Hiroki pulled away, and he looked off to the side, looking huffy. "You actually came back."

"Of course, Hiro-san," Nowaki said with a smile, raising his hand up and running it through Hiroki's hair. "You told me to wait for you here, so I did…" He brought his head down again, capturing Hiroki's lips in a kiss, but it only lasted a few seconds before Hiroki pushed him away.

"What the hell are we doing, sitting here in the genkan?" Hiroki muttered, but he didn't move from Nowaki's lap. He was a little stiff, though, as if he didn't want to get too comfortable there. "Doesn't your contract run out soon? We need to get the rest of your things here before you don't legally have that apartment anymore…"

"Hiro-san…" Nowaki was feeling a little uncomfortable, but it wasn't because of what he'd said. It was because Hiroki was practically pressed against him, and he'd come to discover that when Hiroki was this close, he couldn't help but get a little… excited. He'd never really been with anyone before, so he wasn't sure if that's how it was supposed to work, but it's how it did when it came to his Hiro-san. He found himself stroking Hiroki's cheeks, not even thinking about it. He'd seen the man crying earlier, and as beautiful as he looked with those tears in his eyes, Nowaki just wanted to see a smile on his face.

"I love you, Hiro-san," he said, pulling Hiroki even closer and locking their lips in another kiss. Hiroki made a grunt of disapproval but didn't pull way, and Nowaki lowered his hands until they were wrapped around Hiroki's waist. "I'm sorry I left without telling you, Hiro-san. But I thought you wouldn't want to see me for a while…"

"Stupid, why wouldn't I want to?" Hiroki asked, but then he realized what he had just said and his face went red. He looked off to the side again, and Nowaki just nuzzled his face into Hiroki's neck, sighing contentedly. "I don't get you at all."

"I did miss you, Hiro-san," was Nowaki's answer.

Hiroki had a sour look on his face, but he still wasn't pulling away. In fact, he looked like he might let Nowaki do more, but just as he turned to face him again, his phone went off. The two stopped and stared at the thing where it lay on the floor, having fallen out of Hiroki's bag at some point between taking off his shoes and Nowaki pulling him to the floor.

Neither man looked particularly like they wanted to see who was calling, but Hiroki sighed and rolled off Nowaki's lap until he was sitting beside him, and he picked up the phone. The caller ID made him sigh. "It's my mother."

Nowaki was almost tempted to say something to the effect of 'Tell her I said hello!' but he knew that if he spoke up while Hiroki was on the phone, he'd never hear the end of it once that conversation was over. He just contented himself with running his fingers through Hiroki's hair, knowing that he probably wouldn't shout and throw a fit while he was on the phone with his mother.

"Good evening, Mother," Hiroki said, and his eye twitched as he felt Nowaki's fingers comb his scalp. As Nowaki had suspected, though, he didn't say a thing. Nowaki smiled as he heard a general murmur that he suspected was Hiroki's mother. "Yes, I'm home right now. Dinner? It's kind of late notice isn't it?" He scowled, and then without even thinking to cover his phone so his mother wouldn't hear, he said, "Nowaki, did you start dinner?"

"I didn't, Hiro-san," Nowaki said, fully aware that he was being loud enough for the woman on the other end of the line to hear.

Hiroki just nodded. "Dinner's already cooking, Mother. Not tonight."

"Kamijou Hiroki, don't lie to me!" Hiroki's mother's voice was suddenly loud enough for it to be heard even by Nowaki, and Nowaki quirked his eyebrows up, looking almost amused. At least he knew where Hiroki got his temper and volume from. It was nice to know. "I heard… whoever that was, telling you that he hadn't made dinner! And just who was that, anyway? I thought you lived on your own."

"That was Nowaki, Mother," Hiroki said, looking annoyed but unwilling to come up with some kind of bluff that would require further lying later. His mother's voice went quieter, so Nowaki couldn't hear what she was saying, but Hiroki's face was going a deep red so it was obviously not something he liked. "No he's not just some random guy I brought home to sleep with! I haven't done that since…" He stopped at that, either unwilling to continue that conversation with his own mother or unwilling to think about the last time he brought a man home to sleep with. "We live together, Mother…" Another pause at the murmuring and he said, "No, you can't meet him!"

"But I'd like to see your mother again, Hiro-san," Nowaki said, putting his mouth near Hiroki's ear where the man had his cell phone held. Hiroki looked indignant and pushed Nowaki away, but the damage had been done: it was clear that his mother had heard.

"Again?" she asked, her voice louder once more, and Hiroki winced and held his phone away from his ear. "Have I met this young man before?"

"…he delivered the flowers I sent you for your birthday, Mother," Hiroki said, but he didn't look too happy about it. "Look, he's still moving over his things, so we were going to go to his old apartment and bring the rest of it over. I'll have dinner with you some other night, all right?" He said a quick goodbye and hung up before his mother could protest, and Nowaki had to wonder if Hiroki had done that before. He thought it was rather rude, but then again, it probably wasn't the worst thing Hiroki had ever done to someone he supposedly loved.

Nowaki frowned. He really didn't want to be having those kinds of thoughts. So, since Hiroki wasn't on his lap anymore, he got up, dusting off his pants. "Did you… really want to go to my old apartment and get the last of my things?"

"Yeah," Hiroki muttered, not looking Nowaki directly in the eye. There was what could only be described as an awkward silence at that, and he took a deep breath and said, "It was really stupid of you to just up and leave, you know."

"I know, Hiro-san," Nowaki said, and he resisted the urge to wrap his arms around Hiroki again. It was probably better to just see how things went from here.

"But obviously I'm forgiving you," Hiroki added, sounding like he was doing it for Nowaki's benefit and that he didn't get a single thing out of it. "And you want to know why?"

"Why, Hiro-san?" Nowaki asked, willing to play along with it for now.

"Because I barely ate this weekend," Hiroki whispered. He had a look in his eye that said it was because he was stressed out from missing Nowaki, but when Nowaki seemed to catch it, his eyes hardened and he said, "You've gotten me too used to home cooked food, you big oaf. I can't eat from fast food or convenience store meals anymore." He ducked his head, letting his shaggy bangs fall into his eyes in what he hoped was an attempt to hide them so Nowaki couldn't see the emotion there. "So don't do that again, you got it?"

Nowaki couldn't resist pulling Hiroki to him again, and he hugged him tightly, a happy smile on his face. "I won't, Hiro-san," he said, placing a kiss on his forehead. "I promise."

Half an hour later found them standing outside Nowaki's previous apartment, holding a few boxes between them but nothing big. Nowaki didn't have much, and he'd already moved most of what he did have to Hiroki's apartment. It was mostly odds and ends, but he did need to go to the landlord and give him the key for his apartment as his last official act of giving it up. At first Hiroki hadn't wanted to go, but he also didn't want to just stand around outside the apartment complex in case one of Nowaki's neighbors saw him and decided to strike up a conversation.

Meeting strangers with Nowaki by his side was, he supposed, the lesser of two evils.

"Aw, I'll miss you, Kusama-kun," the man said as he stood behind the desk and took the key from Nowaki. He eyed Hiroki, who was just standing there in the doorway of the office, clutching the box to his chest. Of course the landlord didn't know the whole story behind it, but he did know that Nowaki had been spending less and less time at his actual apartment. He briefly wondered if this man had anything to do with it, but instead of addressing it specifically, he said, "So you found a new apartment?"

"Yes," Nowaki said with a warm smile. "Hiro-san and I will be living together now. I will miss you, Ishida-san."

Ishida smiled himself, and he glanced over at Hiroki. "You take care of him! If you make him cry, there are plenty of people around here who would hunt you down, I'm sure."

"That won't be necessary," Hiroki muttered, not even bothering to deny the implications. He wasn't willing to say the word "boyfriend" or "partner" but he knew that he was accepting Nowaki as such. Despite that it was still day, he'd allowed Nowaki to hold his hand on the train, even laying his head on his shoulder as he took a brief rest while they sped towards their destination. It had felt a lot more comfortable and natural than the contact he'd had with Shinoda, not that he'd really admit such a thing to himself.

Ishida didn't look like he had anything to add to the conversation, so Hiroki turned back to Nowaki, who said, "Ready to go home, Hiro-san?"

"…yeah."


End file.
